September is usually a month of cooling down, switching gears to the fall, which happens to be my favorite season right now. Since August however, the weather here in Central Jersey has been an alternating mix of hazy, muggy days and rain. Lots of warm rainfall.
Today we actually got a respite from that, as the midday temps dropped to around 70, and a cool, steady drizzle was falling as I write this. Today felt like fall (still no sun) and this morning, looking out from my porch, I saw this:
tomorrow is supposed to be even cooler, so here’s hoping that we maintain some fall-ish weather.
Speaking of fall, it was in the fall of 1966 that the Beatles embarked on a mini-vacation from being Beatles, and enjoyed time on their own for those two months. George Harrison took off to India for about four weeks. And speaking of George, here’s the trailer for Martin Scorsese’s upcoming biopic of my favorite Beatle, which looks nothing short of awesome:
Today is the Breeders Cup race at Churchill Downs. The only reason I even acknowledge the race is because of a good friend of mine, who I’ll call Felix, celebrates his birthday each year by having a house party with his friends and family, on the day of the race. Felix is a big sports fan. He and I are disgruntled Mets fans–we typically spent the season bitching about the club’s misadventures from April through October each year, and we’ll go to a few games each season.
But he’s also big on the ponies. He’s the only person I know who collects bobble head dolls of jockeys.
His birthday is in November and it sometimes coincides with the day of the Breeders Cup, which is why he throws these parties. I’ve been going every November for the past several years and we’ve lucked out with the weather each time. They’re usually chilly days with no rain, just like today, and are spent outside in the yard, with a television set up near the patio.
Before the race, he’s usually running DVDs of The Honeymooners reruns (most of us are fans). There are plenty of drinks and food, and he’s usually got the grill going with hot dogs, burgers and chicken. The day usually ends up watching the race in a buzzed fog (I’m not a big drinker) and Felix arguing with his wife. Last year, in typical Ralph Kramden fashion, he drunkenly ordered everyone to leave. These are good times.
I guess this party is becoming an autumnal ritual of sorts–it’s an acknowledgement that Fall is here. It’s not as close to the end of summer, but not quite the Thanksgiving “season”, and all before the holiday rush. It’s good to savor these days. These are the good times.