I must be in my tropical mood. I’m sitting here in my Summer wardrobe, which consists of basically the exact same as my Winter attire, except that for the Summer months, I indulge myself by wearing a lighter blue gingham shirt rather than my normal, slightly darker blue, that I feel more appropriate to the darker and more conservative months of winter.
It is well into the 90’s in New York, and the humidity has us all dripping profusely, so I thought it only proper that since I am appropriately dressed for the tropics, I should write this week about a week I spent many years ago in Round Hill, Jamaica. It is time to loosen my libido and start doing the limbo.
My wife and I were on one of our first vacations since our marriage in 1990, and we were visiting the famous resort of Round Hill, where the villas and oceans are filled with the memories of Hollywood at its finest, from the Forties and Fifties. All proper English and would-be-English actors had liaisons and repartees at Round Hill, and me, sitting under a tree on the beach, covered head to foot in my Summer wardrobe, without a drop of sun hitting anything that looks like my skin, was napping and fantasizing about life in the Forties, when my wife slapped me on the arm to wake me from my reverie, to see a waiter passing us by with a tray on his head. She exclaimed, as all determined, over-controlling, obsessive Art Directors would, that it was time to stop indulging my fantasies and get with the action, and take the waiter’s picture. So like all good husbands, who have wives as Art Directors, I ran and obediently got my camera and asked the waiter to follow me. I took him out on the dock, put my deepest red filter on my camera to exacerbate the depths of my remorse of having been woken from my fine nap, and took this picture.
It turned out I liked this picture, and in fact, it was put in my second book, The Hat Book, which was conveniently designed by my wife and her firm. She being the wisest of the two of us, must have had this vision in her head in Jamaica while I was dreaming on the beach of a life gone by.
As summer slowly goes by and July 4 approaches, I hope you all find someone to bring you back to the real world, so you can, in picture, find a way out.