I have bronchitis.  Coughing myself awake at 2AM, I slipped into the guest room and turned on the TV, finding that the old movie Dirty Dancing was playing.  At first blush, it is about the sweetness of first love and the bittersweet joy of dancing.  At second blush, it is a requiem for a lost version of America, as well as a study in the pain of class distinctions.

I smiled at the swing music from the 1940’s and the early be-bop music of the 1950’s. I laughed at the dated clothes and fashion in this period piece.  But, the thing that really grabbed my attention was wholly irrelevant to the story.  Late evening scenes contained that “symphony of nature” when frogs, crickets, and other critters make that cacophony of sound that has lulled me into sleep so many times.

While it certainly not a hardship to live here on the beach, listening to the waves breaking onto the sand, the movie did make me nostalgic for wilderness living, for sleeping on the ground, counting the stars, enjoying the sounds of nature, and for re-asserting my independence from the narcotic comforts of easy living.

Instead, I think I’ll just go outside and play golf . . . after I stop coughing and take a nap!