July 26, just about the midpoint of sacred, divine, and holiest Summer. No surf but the day escaped paradise. What to do. Same as I did in 1977 as a 12-year-old: ride my bike to 'Lil' Parker' and plunge into water so clear and soft that a shower will actually make me less clean. No joke. And to top off the whole 'Summertime-and-the-livin-is-easy' trip, we're about to get a late afternoon thunderstorm. How freakin' classic is that?