Here's how you know it's summer in Brooklyn:
a. Everyone is sweating, from the old men setting up their domino table to
the tiny chihuahua and her cigarette smoking supermodel owner.
And it's only 8 o'clock in the morning.
b. The warm, sweet smell of garbage abandoned on the sidewalk
by exhausted, delirious garbagemen.
c. The warm, sweet smell of melted ice cream dripped on the sidewalk
by giddy, whinnying children.
d. Diggers, roofers, builders, all performing their showstopping song and dance number over all the dusty dug earth and cobbled black rooftops of the neighborhood.
e. An inexplicable plague of oversleeping grips the cool, dark bedrooms.
f. There is music everywhere.