I’ve exiled myself to the penal colony of jangly Australian pop bands again, thanks to my degenerate music tastes and the Algorhythm. Right now, it’s The Belair Lip Bombs. Summer is totaled, the evening light exquisite, but so, so melancholy. We know what’s ahead. Bars close early these days, at least here in Omaha. Kids stay home with their weed and TV.

Our particular lifestyle is curbed by the soon-to-be eight-year-old boy, who won’t watch a narrative movie but is all about renovation shows, cooking competitions, and nature docs. PBS has a show called Eons that features likable scientists explaining evolution and geology. I comprehend half of what they’re saying; I have no idea what the boy understands. But that’s life. What we learn, we forget anyway.

I hope you swam this summer and maybe even got a little burnt. Life is short.