It has been three days since my air conditioning Manchester unit began shuddering dramatically, like a Miami resident in 65-degree weather, before abruptly giving out. I don’t think I would have normally minded this, but it is summer and temperatures here have been steadily inching toward the 90s.

To combat the effects of heat exhaustion, I’ve taken to lounging around in tank tops and shorts. I have also stocked up on electric fans, popsicles and ice cube trays. Admittedly, times like this also make me wish I had invested in thermal drapes. I really don’t have time to be knocked out by the heat—I have proposals to write and deadlines to curse.

Unfortunately, professional rescue will not be arriving until Thursday, which is still two days from now. Until then, I’ll have to keep Googling, ‘How to endure hot summer nights (without AC),’ for lifesaving tips.

It’s too often the case that musicians are misunderstood. Jimmy Rutabaga was a saxophone scholar who unfortunately met his early incarceration at the ripe, young age of 22. Nobody could criticize Jimmy for a lack of commitment to the art of saxophone playing, but that devotion to the art failed to keep him outside of the county lockup.

Jimmy came onto the jazz scene at a time when the French culture was really starting to transition away from the arts and especially public artistic expression. You could say it was the start of a new dark age for culture in this part of Europe. Jimmy was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

The smattering of small bills and coins in Jimmy’s saxophone case was meaningless against the bail set by the state upon his arrest. The authorities surely knew that one saxophone player Manchester couldn’t stand up to such force.

My husband and I have been together for 30 years. Even though we have been married for a long time, he goes out of his way to make sure that every anniversary is special. He knows that I love surprises. He took the day off from work on our 30th anniversary. He woke me up and made my breakfast in bed.

He then took me to a florist Harrogate shop and let me pick out the flowers that I wanted. After that, we had lunch at our favorite restaurant. After lunch, we went cruising. My husband and I love to just drive around, listen to music and talk. It’s the simple things that make me really love my husband. We went back to the house after driving for a few hours and then we had a romantic evening. It was unforgettable.

A magical dog had ate some magical grass. It was just one piece but it seemed like a feast. The dog had powers that it could control. The dog could go from big to looking real old. It was odd the things this dog could do. It would even start singing out of the blue. It was unique and something to see except for when he would count to three. As I got older he didn’t care he would sit right there and just stare. I don’t know what he wants do you? The dog wants CCTV Bolton and a pop tart I thought. I was right he didn’t bark or whine all night. He was finally happy from stress. I was so happy because now I can get a good nights sleep.

When people age, one of the things that often goes is their hearing. This happened to my grandmother who, always a loud woman anyway, became increasingly louder as her hearing loss worsened. After an embarrassing incident where she talked about family secrets in a voice so loud the whole restaurant could hear, that’s when we suggested she might want to look at Stockport hearing aids.

Of course, there was the expected denial, ‘There’s nothing wrong with my hearing’. When she couldn’t hear her favorite TV show without the volume so high the neighbors banged on the wall, we finally insisted she needed a hearing test. As expected it showed she’d lost more than 40 percent of her normal hearing ability, and a hearing aid would probably be her best bet.

She wears one now, all the time, which we’re all thankful of when we’re trying not to tell the whole world our family business.

Most guys only do something nice for their girlfriend or wife when they are in trouble for the birthday or anniversary me myself. I like my special someone that she is thought of on a continuous basis some days, minute by minute, which is why I send her Harrogate flowers every month. The entire year this tradition started when we first began our relationship shortly before her birthday that year. I asked her if there was anything in particular that she wanted or wished to do, as in my family. We believed in the birthday wish, meaning that, because it’s your birthday. Anything within reason that you wish for you can have and she knew I was a romantic and would do just about anything she asked. Just to see a smile she however was not particularly keen about the idea of her birthday. So she told me that she wanted something pretty every month for a year, assuming I’m sure that I would bring something on her birthday and maybe for the first few months or so and then slowly forget about the promise.

To her surprise, however not only did I bring a dozen roses on her birthday with a white one in the center, which had a claddagh ring on the stem, but I sent them the first of every month like clockwork for the entire year, with special arrangements in December and for other particularly special dates. I have continued this tradition for the past three years every year on birthday. When asked what she wishes, she simply says something pretty every month for a year and the promise renewed.

As Sammy headed towards the stage, all white marbled eyes followed his dragging feet. His cool demeanor showed as he tousled his greased black hair and straightened his leather jacket. He picked up his instrument, an instrument that was mostly hollow, and connected a cable to it. A guitar? No, he held it as a violin and began playing. The sharp notes coming from the violin were crisp as they played the blues in the style of BB King. The bow moving back and forth, with it creating a vibrating sensation through the crowd. As everyone watched in awe until the end of the song, the electric violinist only saw one thing…his slender violin. He placed it back on the floor once he was done and continued down the steps. He slowly walked out the back door. All that was left was the electric violin, shining under the black light, waiting to be played once more.

I have only ever had my makeup done by a bridal makeup artist once, and that was for the wedding of a friend when I lived in Los Angeles. After all, I am pretty adept at doing my own makeup, so had never thought I needed the services of one.

This particular occasion, however, I wanted to look perfect for the wedding as she is my closest friend. Well, that and I was taking a guy I really like, and I had to look good for him.

So, I made an appointment three hours before the wedding to have my makeup done by a woman a friend recommended. A woman who does the makeup of many of Hollywood’s stars.

The whole session took 45 minutes but, when I left her salon I looked like a completely different person. I had arched eyebrows, high cheekbones and a pout I had never had before or since.

All I can say is, if you get a chance to have your makeup done by a professional, grab that chance and run with it. You will be so much in love with yourself by the time she has finished, you will want her to come and live in your house so you will always look like that.