I heard from my old friend Ian from London. He says he likes Philly a lot, which surprises me. I like Philly, but I have history there. It’s not clear to me why someone from London would enjoy Philly.

Anyway, I’ve been absent for a few weeks. Well, checking … It’s more like a month! Jesus. And having looked at Ian’s blog, I ought to be ashamed. That boy is diligent.

It’s been an active summer. A few weeks ago Ann and I spent a week in Cape Cod. It was a success all around, and I should write all about it, but not right now. I will say that the Cape is still a wonderful place to visit on a summer vacation. It has not been ruined by crass commercial development, like so many other spots visited by gaggles of squawking families. What will stick in my mind as enchantments, things and places that captured me in some way, are. . . sitting on Nauset Light Beach during the chilly early evening, the cliffs behind us as a smattering of kids and parents braved the frigid waters, and as groups of surfers, speckling the waters beyond with their black wet suits, rose on their boards for a few brief moments above the waves. I remember looking from atop the cliff, out over the gray and misty shore before Ann and I left for the last time. The most wonderful place still in all of New England must be Nantucket Island. The heavily salted cottages tucked behind thick brush, the kids on bikes carrying towels as they wobble along bike paths, the beautiful architecture which still suggests to me Poe, Hawthorne, and Melville. Ann and I did not get along much of the day, but still, I’m already romanticizing the memories. For a few moments we sat on wet towels as the utter grayness and chill of the day blanketed the beach. A cold rain fell lightly while we fed on crackers and tried to keep warm, until finally the rain was no longer light. Ann thought it was the best beach we’d seen, and she was right. Everything about Nantucket was right, even the rich kids in their Abercrombie clothes whom Ann resented. Nantucket still seems to be steeped in a tradition, which I love. Privileged kids and privileged families have been populating the beaches, beach houses, and streets for decades. I can resent it no more than I resent the Ivy League, A&F catalogs, and good restaurants. For some reason, I resent ... or rather, have disdain for, rich, stupid California kids. Somehow the privileged east coast suggests Harvard to me, while the west coast suggests Paris Hilton. Anyway, there was also Provincetown, in some ways a disappointment, but I got the sense that we had just scratched the surface. Maybe more about that later.

That was a few weeks ago. Two weekends ago I was at a gay campgrounds. I enjoyed sunbathing and swimming naked. I don’t know what exactly it is that draws gay men to public nudity, but I like it too. Finally, this past weekend Ann and I were in Albany visiting her parents. It was a nice weekend too. More later. I've got to keep this short.