Monsoony isn’t a word, but I don’t know why it can’t be. Monsoonesque is wrong, but euphonious. Then there’s pluvial.

“It’s very pluvial today,” daughter said. I must have raised my eyebrows. “I’m trying to expand my vocabulary this summer,” she said. She already has a fine one, and like any good writer, takes pleasure in some words. The ones with distinct personalties, the ones that evoke moods like a spellcaster summoning up fog or birdsong. She said this as we were heading out, again, because today I was the summer chauffeur. Picked her up in the morning; took her to a shopping district to meet friends and NOT BE A PACK OF TEEN GIRLS, as I said - don’t leave merchandise in disorder, pipe down if it the store’s mood is quiescent, tip well, and be polite. I wanted to say “no fits of giggles insufficiently stifled,” but you can only go so far and some things are inevitable.

Then off to the movie theater in the evening to pick up the trio, and on the way back we had a discussion of scary movies. The previous night they’d watched “The Sixth Sense” but got creeped out 2/3rds of the way through and decided to watch “The Office.” Really? There’s sort of a twist you might want to see.

“Tell us.”

“No!”

“What’s the Sixth Sense?” asked one friend who hadn’t been present.

“It’s a sequel to the Fifth Sensation,” I said. “A horror movie series.”

Whereupon the others said IT WAS NOT and the friend cried “You’re an adult! I trusted you!”

I like these kids.

Anyway, as you might have guessed, it rained and rained, so no need to set up the sprinklers. No falling down the hill, no water in the mug, no sopped pants, no running away from the needling drops. It’s been a less than summery June, but for once I don’t mind. I’m resigned to this one being a rote summer, and I have no stake in its success.

Perhaps because it’s successful already. The novel is done, save a few tweaks. The mulch is down. Well, ten bags more this weekend, but compared to the strewage that’s gone on the last month, it’s done. The yard lights are perfect. The Oak Island Water Feature is working - the fountain, anyway. The new sod isn’t dead and the old sod thrives. Hard to argue with any of that.

Package today from Warby Parker, an online glasses company. Why? Because I’m tired of paying high prices for glasses! I’ll bet they eliminated the middleman. Literally: killed him, cut him up, consumed his flesh and drank a smoothy fortified by the calcium of his powdered bones, then passed all the parts through their digestive system, eliminating the middleman. The prices for the frames were good; the prices for the lens, mine being Progressive, were not exactly cheap. But they mail you five frames for free and you can try them on, and discover that what you liked in the picture get a Meh from your wife and a “That’s interesting” from your daughter. They were classic 20s styles, some horn-rimmed - a term that applies to no horn I have ever seen - and one that was supposed to be light blue and translucent, but was dark blue and opaque. I’m tempted to say I DON’T CARE YOU’RE NOT THE BOSS OF ME and go ahead, and when you live with people they don’t pay too close attention, and wouldn’t notice. I have two pairs of glasses, different styles, and wife and child are always a bit startled when I point out I’ve been wearing different glasses for the last week.

Anyway, here’s the thing. The box said “Good things await you.” Thank you. They’re glasses. Inside the box said “Good things come in fives” and there were pictures of Starfish Arms, High-Fives, Five-Second Rule (piece of pie, which had apparently maintained structural integrity after falling to the floor) and Vowels. Slogan: “Our Home Ty-On. It really takes the cake.”

And I thought does everything have to be delightfully whimsical? Must everything be piquantly quirky? There’s nothing in the series of Five Good Things that makes sense. Oh, look, five glasses to try on, just like Starfish have five arms. There is nothing good, or bad, about the number of arms a starfish possesses. There is nothing good about vowels in the moral sense. High-fives can be awarded for dastardly acts if you are among like-minded fiends. The Five-Second Rule is a lie.

Gawd, it’s twee.

I think I’ll buy the horn-rimmed ones.

I might roll my eyes at the packaging, but it works - inasmuch as it flatters your sense of being Interesting and Amusing and possibly even Wry; I mean, “lt really takes the cake” was written with the understanding that we would say this with that modern blend of irony and sincerity, because irony is a way of expressing sincerity these days. The other cheap online glasses sites are ghastly plastic places where Stock Photo People beam at the camera, delighted beyond measure by the eyewear they possess.

The only thing of which I can be sure is that Warby Parker will never leave me alone now, and there will be emails. It’s been following me around on ad networks like a hungry puppy. Like them? Huh? What’d’ya think? Remember us? Buy some? Sale! Really! C’mon, remember me? Don’t you want these? They can help you appropriate the unearned appearance of a Jazz Age Intellectual and shipping is free! Well, built into the business model and spread throughout the merchandise, but Free! FREE! Click here! Please! Hey! Don’t go! I’ll just pop up on the next site!

Wonder if it’s in the ad box below.

Construction update: the stadium rises. You have no idea how immense this thing is. And it's good.

Meanwhile, over by where I used to work, they've turned my parking spot into a pit - for apartments.

It never ends! But it will.

As usual for Friday, the Music Cues. Of course we begin with the Couple Next Door, with its cheerful soundtrack of the mid-century domestic scene.

Lots of new cues in the 600 episode series. I'm surprised - and I wonder where they were keeping them, and didn't use them before.

CND Cue #552 From another set of cues entirely. Doesn't fit.

Moving along with the innumerable Gunsmoke cues. Like the show itself - all different, and all the same . . . or so I used to say. The cues went with a full orchestra, heavy on the echo, and now we got Copeland-style Western stuff.

I swear I hear some of the Star Trek original series composer's work in the first one.

To wrap up the radio offerings this week, the old ad - this time from a batch I took off an aircheck rescued from the trash by a friend. These have probably never appeared on the internet anywhere. Count yourself among the lucky.

Let's go back to that sweet swank Continental romance:

You weren't expected to look like this to listen, but you were expected to think about looking like this.