Summer Wind

Red lipstick, rotary phones, typewriters, martini glasses, turn tables, black and white photos of my grandfather with slicked hair and high cheekbones, pearls, orchestral melodies. My tastes are of another age. I'm nostalgic for days I never had--> clams casino in 1956, white russians in the boardroom. I'd like a little glamour, a little Frank-Sinatra dappery. Let's sigh our melodies underneath a blue umbrella sky.