Earlier tonight I was talking to this cute girl (not like that unfortunately but I enjoyed making her laugh…I was getting better at it which is an encouraging sign the first time you start doing something) and in between laughs we were talking about The Ocean.

How big and majestic and beautiful it is: 2 days ago she’d just got back from a Miami trip and was talking about The Ocean like she’d ran into an old friend. The Ocean is doing well…then she jumped on an airplane and walked into my life.

She never took off her jacket so that’s why I said not like that…she’s never gonna look at me like she does The Ocean.

It’s been a year…maybe more since I’ve seen The Ocean. Which is both a short and a long amount of time. I miss The Ocean.

Last time I saw The Ocean it was in LA. And even though she didn’t take off her jacket I decided to tell her about The Ocean in LA…specifically Hermosa Beach one of my favourite spots on this entire planet.

Hoping she’d take off her jacket I was trying but failing to remember the name of this small ice cream shop near the beach.

Years ago I was wandering Hermosa Beach aimless yet open to adventure smoking a cigar. When the cigar sadly came to its expected end I looked up and there was this ice cream shop. I painfully parted from the cigar (you made my life better!) and wandered into the shop.

There was one customer: this ridiculous fit lass in denim cutoff shorts clearly flirting with the CW Show style hunk boredly plunking ice cream scoops into sugar cones. Her beautiful smile was so bright I honestly didn’t know how the ice cream didn’t melt.

For whatever reason he wasn’t at all interested in her; she was all in interested in him and for all intents and purposes I didn’t exist.

While I waited for this doomed romance to unfold to its Romeo and Juliet conclusion I noticed the girl’s t-shirt: Local Natives. I dunno what that is…a band?

This girl is exotic I can’t imagine the circles she travels in…I envy the ears who’ll collect her whispers and hot breaths: she’s an exciting trailer for a movie I’m never gonna see.

She got her ice cream but not his number.

As she left the ice cream shop I snuck a glance at her booty hoping it was small…a flaw any flaw to suggest I’d dodged a bullet like a girl who doesn’t enjoy McDonald’s french fries. Sadly she’s flawless it’s as glorious as you think it is.

I stood there in the last of her lingering scent when CW Ice Cream Hunk said: “Hey man. Thanks for waiting. Do you know what you want?” I lied and said ice cream.

When I got back home I googled Local Natives and discovered this incredible band. The saddest songs are the ones we never put on mixtapes. Eventually, I lost track of them like losing a friend in the busy Times Square crowd.

Meanwhile, time and circumstances brought me to this present moment talking to a cute girl with her jacket on about The Ocean. I couldn’t remember the name of the ice cream shop not that it mattered. Our time was up. She hugged me and said it was so great to meet me.

We parted and I got into my car. When it started I’d left the radio on and it’s one of those majestic moments where fate/God/coincidence/divine meeting: the universe is orchestrated solely for your needs.

The radio DJ says to me: “This is an incredible song…new Local Natives: When Am I Gonna Lose You!” WHAT.

“Their new album Violet Street will be released on April 26.” He pushes play on the song which has these lines:

“I remember the trees summoned down
Like an archangel choir
And the ocean was all we could see
And I knew that I wanted you
When am I gonna lose you”

DAMN. The Ocean.

I dunno who that epically fit girl was in the ice cream shop but thank you. This new song from the Local Natives is incredible.

I dunno where you are or what you’re up to. I hope you’re happy in a way in a way you never thought you could be…so happy in a way that it embarrasses you. Oh man and I’ll be honest: I hope you still look rugged in those shorts. That I don’t doubt.

I put the car in D, turned up the song and drove off.

-28-

Listen to My Summer Lair @ W • T • F

Also published on Medium.