In forecasting the weather, I rely on the most advanced system available in the Catskills: looking out the window. When dark clouds gather, wind picks up, trees sway, and the temperature suddenly drops, there just might be a thunderstorm on the way. But what I really want to talk about is heat waves and the “elderly.”

Every ten minutes the TV reminds us that the elderly should stay indoors during extreme heat. And here’s the thing, it’s not the heat, it’s the idea of elderly, which according to television now begins at sixty-nine. I’ve seen this supposed borderline for being elderly mentioned in crime shows, newscasts, morning talk shows, and even those cheerful little segments between commercials that tell you how to live your life in under thirty seconds.

Sixty-nine? That’s not elderly. That’s a dinner reservation at a place with a linen napkin. I must have crossed into “elderly” while I was busy looking for my reading glasses, which seems to be how most important life transitions happen. Nobody sent me a memo. No gold watch. No ceremony. No “Welcome to Elderly Status, please proceed directly to the shaded porch.”

Like making lemonade from lemons, I use it well.

When The Huz (that’s husband for short) suggested “we” build stone-step stairs down to the river, I suddenly remembered that I was, according to television, now officially “elderly” and therefore presumably not to be risked near steep inclines, questionable footing, or anything involving extreme weather. So, I stayed inside and blasted the air conditioning.

It’s amazing how quickly life simplifies when you are officially categorized as someone who should probably stay inside. The world, which has become louder, faster, and more insistent, slows down. And slowing down isn’t just for the “elderly.” It’s for everyone.

Which brings me to a shameless bit of self-promotion for something I’ve been working on lately: SLOTH.

Not the animal (though I continue to admire its career choices), and not something reserved for any particular age bracket or category TV feels like assigning this week. SLOTH is a slow movement in live music and animation, a space where nothing is trying to outrun your nervous system. Where sound has room to land, images have time to breathe, and nobody is pretending urgency is a personality.

To keep everything balanced, SLOTH has its own fashion statement: anything sparkly, as long as its black-on-black and, of course, tiny hats. Because slowing down is glamorous.

So if you’re tired of the heat, tired of the noise, or just tired of being told what category you belong in, come join Jaquel Theis and me this Thursday (July 9^th) at 7pm at The 108 Main (@the108main) in Narrowsburg, New York.

We’ll be presenting SLOTH, a slow-moving sound-and-vision experience featuring true stories told through song, handpan, tanpura, pulse-tube, shruti box, gong, and original animation that unfolds atmospherically, quietly, organically, and in no particular hurry at all.

And yes, it’s free, and it’s happening in the coolest place in Narrowsburg. Cool in every sense of the word: the kind of cool you feel when you walk in and realize you’re in exactly the right place, doing exactly the right thing for yourself. The kind of cool that means blasting air conditioning. No exceptions.

So, sloth on with us, crazy humans. And remember: tiny hats and sparkles are encouraged.