This is the second of a two-part posting about songs that just reek of summer.  Check out the first part if you haven’t.  I’ll wait.

Summertime  by Various Artists.  While I was coming up with songs for this list, a number of friends said, “Ron, what about ‘Summertime’?”  Okay, well – which one?  You’ve got the Sundays’ little ditty from the early 90s that makes you want to get up, grab your sweetie and run through the park (that is, assuming you’ve ended up with the one you adore instead of the one you abhor).  You have Janis Joplin’s throaty rendition of Gershwin’s classic.  You have Sublime’s version where the rhythm is pretty slow and meandering that you can actually feel the humidity come out of your speakers.  And, of course, you’ve got Will Smith’s ode to his summers growing up in Philadelphia, where the end of school meant playing basketball, washing your car and going cruising.  So many to chose from…

Centerfield by John Fogerty. As a friend of mine put it, what is more synonymous with summer than baseball?  John Fogerty’s classic has become the unofficial anthem of America’s favorite pastime and that was never more evident than when Fogerty performed the song during the opening ceremonies of the new Yankee Stadium this year.  Put me in, Coach!

Daylight by Matt & Kim.  Most people know it as the song from the Bacardi commercial, but yes, it is a summer song or a song of summer or whatever it is you want to call it.  Throwing your shoes into the ocean and cutting the legs off your pants automatically makes it that.  Come to think of it, the association with Bacardi also automatically makes it that.

Vacation by the Go-Gos.  It’s all I ever wanted.  –Ron Motta

This week was like Christmas for me, as I got to head out to the Apple store and pick out a shiny new computer for myself. (As a freelance writer and editor who logs some serious time on her computers day in, day out, my computer is basically the most-used item in my house.)

People often try to get me to use a PC (and I’ve been forced to use them sometimes for various freelance projects), but at this point, I’m truly hobbled when I’m forced to use one. I feel like I’ve been forced back to my 1994 Mac, and I’ve forgotten how to work it.

This was my fourth Mac in 14 years, and it’s a work of art—a sleek, aluminum 15-inch MacBook Pro, with a lighted screen and enough hard-drive space to last me at least through the next two or three years.

But beyond the fantastic design, the fabulous software, the incredible ease of use, the real reason I buy Macs time and time again is the amazing customer service I’ve always received whenever I head into an Apple store. I’ve had a few glitches along the way (a fried hard drive, slow processing speeds due to a lack of RAM), and I’ve been able to get it fixed within 24 hours. Once I even had one of Steve Jobs’ assistants call me one Friday night and spend a half-hour talking with me about my issues. He arranged for me to get extra RAM installed at a significant discount, even though there was no reason he needed to.

This week, when I walked into the store, I wanted them to do a complex data transfer: Move my files to my new MacBook Pro, and move my husband’s files to my old MacBook. Even though that wasn’t supposed to be included in their $99 One to One service, they were happy to do the transfer for me.

And as long as they continue to provide this top-notch level of customer care—and this top-notch level of product—I’ll continue to be one of their biggest fans. —Lisa Milbrand

kWhen you mention the word “summer” people think automatically of sun, beaches, grilling…and music. Here now is the first of a two-part series on songs that, at least for me, are synonymous with waves, humidity and hot dogs (in no particular order):

The Boys of Summer by Don Henley. Much like the way Bruce Springsteen’s “Born in the USA” has been co-opted by campaigning politicians who obviously never listened to the words, Don Henley’s haunting anthem to lost youth has become a bit of mainstay on “songs of summer” countdowns that are meant to celebrate the carefree spirit that summer is supposed to represent. “Boys” doesn’t celebrate the summers of Henley’s youth – it mourns them. To an adult, does summer really represent freedom from responsibilities like it does for a teen-ager? Last time I checked, I still pay my mortgage and the utility bills in the summer. I don’t’ have two months off from work. As Henley so aptly puts it, “those days are gone forever, I should just let ‘em go.” Of course, there is nothing that says “summer” more to a teen-ager than the lost love. Anyone who’s had to say a premature good-bye to someone who touched your heart and soul simply because the leaves were about to change can relate to this song.

Celebrated Summer by Hüsker Dü. In addition to having one of the all-time greatest opening lines ever (“Love ‘n’ hate was in the air like pollen from a flower…”), this song just makes you want to run across the beach and throw yourself into the ocean, giggling maniacally the entire time. If “Boys” was a funeral dirge, then this one’s a stripper popping out of a birthday cake. It takes you back to a time when you ached for the summer, when the end of school meant no rules, no responsibilities and endless possibilities. A time when the biggest question facing your future was either “getting drunk out on the beach or playing in a band?” And as quickly as the summer comes upon us, it vanishes and we watch as “the sun disintegrates beneath a wall of clouds.” But that’s okay. There’s always next summer.

Sittin’ on the Dock of the Bay by Otis Redding. One of the best pieces of advice I have ever received was from someone who, noting I had been incredibly stressed, told me to grab a fishing rod and just sit at the end of a dock. “You probably won’t catch anything,” my friend said, “but there’s no better way to feel the weight of the world just melt away.” And boy, was he right. This song embraces the notion of doing nothing and just “wastin’ time.” Otis, of course, laid down the definitive version of this song, but Eddie Vedder and Pearl Jam comes pretty damn close to matching Redding wail-for-wail. Also recommended: the Michael “P.S.” Hayes version as well.

Welcome to Paradise by Green Day. To me, anything off of “Dookie” reminds me of the summer of 1994. It was a summer of transition for me – I had just graduated from college, didn’t have a job, didn’t have any prospects and had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. In fact, I felt like I was living the song “Longview.” But “Paradise” is their defining moment and is what, according to my buddy and music aficionado Scott Colvin, put them on the map. As they play this song at Woodstock ’94, the audience – having braved rainstorms as they watched the festival – started throwing mud at the stage. The band, not to be undaunted, decided to throw it back. It’s probably the most iconic image of the 25th anniversary of Woodstock and not only cemented the fact that they had arrived, but also told the world that Green Day ain’t going anywhere.

Love Shack by the B-52s. Can’t tell you how many times this song was blaring from my car radio as me and my buddies headed towards Jones Beach on Long Island. It also gave us wrestler Cactus Jack’s signature “BANG BANG!” catchphrase.

Stay tuned for my next five songs of summer! –Ron Motta

I try to fight it, but the truth is, I can be quite the hypochondriac. What that means for me as a traveler is that for at least a few moments on most trips, regardless of how medically benign the destination, I’m convinced that I’ve contracted some terrible disease. Example: I have a vivid memory of swimming to the exact midpoint of a pond in Asia and thinking, I wonder if this is how people catch elephantitis? It isn’t, and I was fine, but I nearly drowned myself pondering the question.

That’s why I love resources that give me the best chance to be fully prepared for any real potential illnesses when I travel. The International Association for Medical Assistance to Travelers site is a great example. It contains a database of any medical concerns for a particular travel spot, recommended pre-trip preparation, as well as a list of medical doctors who speak English in the region (I don’t recommend being an ugly American and insisting on English everywhere, but when it comes to potential illness, it’s just easier to speak the same language as your medical team). You can create a medical guide for your trip (and send it to your mobile device), or just get great insight on travel health topics by reading the blog (as of the last post on the topic, there’s still no need for panic on Swine Flu.)

Because the site’s clearly created by travelers who happen to be medical experts (as opposed to medical experts leery of travel), IAMAT.org informs without diminishing the excitement of taking a trip. Clearly, the healthiest possible perspective. – Jen Dennis

The thing du jour among celebrities is having your own fashion line. I guess being a brand is more important than, oh, I don’t know, being good at your craft. But I digress. It seems that everybody and their grandmother has their own fashion line these days. J.Lo. Bono. Paris Hilton. Jaclyn Smith’s K-Mart clothes.

But can these people really design their own clothes? I mean, does P. Diddy has professional fashion designers who graduated at the top of their class at FIT laying their etchings on his desk while Puffy sits there like a Roman emperor, giving each design a “yay” or a “nay?” (The former Puff Daddy is a busy man, after all.) While celebrities may be excellent business people (or, rather, their business managers may be excellent business people), I really, really wonder if they could design a whole line of clothes if left to their own devices.

Apparently, too, does Julia Stiles. Indeed, she’s decided to “design” her own line of green clothes. * Julia, I definitely hope that you save the last Shants for me!

*Be sure you click on the “Purchase” link on Julia’s website, so you can find out how you can donate to the Lunch Box Fund, an organization that helps impoverished children in the towns of Soweto and Alexandra, South Africa. –Ron Motta