So we come strolling up the street to the house today - a rather gray, rainy sort of July day in Provincetown - and see Gracie the Upstairs Corgi hanging out in one of her upstairs windows.
I know a photo-op when I see one, and grab a shot. Later, I sit staring at the picture, and think to myself: "Why does this remind me of something? What is it?"
And then I realize. Gracie, unknowingly - I presume - has taken on one of the iconic images of the 1970s: The Duchess of Windsor, in the first stages of the dementia that would eventually claim her entirely, watching the funeral procession of her husband from a window in St. James Palace.
And then I thought: perhaps it's time to leave Provincetown. I am turning way too much of Teh Gay.