If I am not mistaken, today is the 42nd anniversary of the movie Deliverance.
Plinga pling pling pling.
On the same day, at Wimbledon Billie Jean King beat Evonne Goolagong.
In my own life, since that was the summer that Fisher met Spassky, I was highly attuned to the newspaper. For myself, in tournament play, I had at my little age earned a rating. In great anticipation I was set – in between running like an unshod brown animal or riding horses bare-back without bridle – to watch and play through these games with with my grandfather – himself a world level Bridge champion – with great attention. The summer was hot and free and great thunderheads would roll in with the evenings. I watched Julia Child and NASA missions. I met Dave McNally. I listened to short wave radio at night and distant trains whistles. As one did, I knew every kid and all their houses and yards. I ate snow cones from a cousin’s traveling cart, kicked through the banks of hail from summer storms, and blew up stuff with fireworks. I had a bright green Sting-Ray with a white seat.
My hair was on fire, my knees were scuffed, and I was never going to die.
Today is also the 7th anniversary of the release of the text of Summorum Pontificum!
I have fond memories of chillin’ the Veuve with a friend.