I have a new policy.
I spent last summer in LA doing an internship at the California Science Center (where you can experience my handiwork right now). Before I began, however, I drove cross country with my friend Corby to move him to upstate New York where he is--even now, as you read this--mowing several acres of lawn for Academy Award winner Timothy Hutton. Sometime on our second run through Tennessee (we had to backtrack three hours from Nashville to Memphis in order to see Graceland--totally worth it) I got a call from my bumbling and irate landlord informing me that the girl I had found to sublet my place was certainly NOT allowed to live there, meaning I had to pay rent all summer for a place I wasn't living in. Poo. (By the by, Norman just sold the place...may the golden era of parking in the driveway and laundry after 9pm begin!).
When I got to LA, Renee, Joey, and Sandra graciously allowed me to stay on their couch for free during the weekdays (bless you all! i wish you much joy with the new season of SYTYCD--may it get better each time you rewatch it). Renee and I, finding ourselves under the same roof for the first time in six years, had decided that summer 2006 would undoubtedly be the BEST SUMMER EVER.
I can't speak for Renee, but I think summer 2006 certainly holds up with the best of them. And in the spirit of its success, I've decided on a new policy. Every summer shall henceforth be referred to as the BEST SUMMER EVER. Now, I know all you nitpickers and "best-of" listmakers out there will shudder at the thought of equally weighting all summers, but that's just not the case. Does it wrongfully diminish past summers to endow current summer with expectancy and hopefulness? I think not. The BEST SUMMER EVER is the summer you're in, and I'm in summer 2007 which, eleven days in, is indeed the BEST SUMMER EVER. My cruiser agrees, and she urges you to do the same.