What is life? It is the flash of a firefly in the night.
It is the little shadow which runs across the grass and loses itself
in the sunset.
- Crowfoot, 1890
And what is sweetest in the mid-1950s? The same ... plus a long drive with pillows in the back of a two-tone station wagon, Dramamine knocking us silly, relentless winter sun, reflections in the water, skinny legs, treasures from the sea, bathing suits all one color, sisters with hair blunt cut at home, mother drinking in the saline days, pimento cheese sandwiches, Dad's prescience with the movin' picture camera.
