Summertime
Here we are again. The New Year, which arrived seemingly five minutes ago, is now half over. I've previously discussed this phenomenom all people of a certain age experience: the rapidity of time passage. Days turn into weeks and all the rest. You look up, and it's another season. Summer, again.
There isn't a lot of point to this entry - just another time marker. Something to look at years from now and reflect upon. A remembrance of my circumstances, and perhaps state of mind. Recently, we had rainfall for what seemed like a month straight. I guess this happens every year. I used to love rainy days. Now I find overcast and wet weather a bore, and quite disgusting (necessary as it is, yes).
As I type, I still live and work in the same places. The "season" is winding down and our snowbird friends are returning Northward. Things on the job will remain steady through the summer months, but little to none of the double bookings and running room to room I do in the winter. Will I want to be in such a frantic environment when I'm sixty?
I think about the many forced naps (ones I now covet) of childhood during the summer. Turning my head and through the bedroom window watching planes in the sky, their distant rumbles some sort of cruel reminder that I was stuck in my little corner of the world.
I think of all the summertimes in my life, most memorably the church Youth Camps in Melrose, FL. Lake Swan. It was where I truly became a Christian, professing faith for real. I can never forget the night the power went down during a service and many kids just honestly spoke about their lives. It all felt genuine. Some, including many of those with whom I grew up who no longer profess that faith, may argue the source.
One year our cabin won the neatness award, which meant the losing cabin had to carry our luggage to the bus. Our leader, someone with whom I'm still in contact, was very competitive about this, and even created a "Hair Care Center" in our bathroom, complete with ornate sign and symmetrically placed gel and shampoo bottles on the counter. I remember my summer of '84 ('85?) girlfriend Lonna, a relationship that didn't progress too far after we returned back home, to reality. The camp grounds had a sort of magic quality. Mainly, my Christian faith was the true magic of the scene, and I believe that it was because of God such a scene could exist. But can "good" exist apart from God? We had many debates in my undergrad days.
Back home, still on a spiritual camp high, there was some unchecked piety, and attitudes of perfection that didn't stand up to the temptations in every corner. It was my first lesson in Christian humility. Valuable. Still learning, and unlearning some of what in hindsight seems quite childish and even toxic. 'Tis a journey.
One of my favorite summertime memories? More recent, say around fifteen to twenty years ago. The dearly departed Barnes & Noble at CityPlace in West Palm Beach. On weekdays off I would go at opening and park myself in the upstairs cafe for hours as I wrote short stories and drank coffee. I consumed a lot of baked goods. There was inspiration there, even if what I wrote wasn't Nobel or Pulitzer Prize worthy. There was something about the sun breaking through the windows and the smell of the java and ice cold a/c that made me feel totally at peace. A few years later, I would study and write abstracts for grad school in those same seats. I really miss that B & N.
Summer. So much to write. Maybe I should close with the lyrics to Jonathan Richman's "That Summer Feeling". Relatable. Maybe too relatable.
When there's things to do not because you gotta
When you run for love not because you oughta
When you trust your friends with no reason, nada
The joy I've named shall not be tamed
And that summer feeling is gonna haunt you one day in your life
When the cool of the pond makes you drop down on it
When the smell of the lawn makes you flop down on it
When the teenage car gets the cop down on it
That time is here for one more year
And that summer feeling is gonna haunt you one day in your life
If you've forgotten what I'm naming
You're gonna long to reclaim it one day
Because that summer feeling is gonna haunt you one day in your life
And if you wait until your older
A sad resentment will smolder one day
And then that summer feeling is gonna haunt you
And that summer feeling's gonna taunt you
And then that summer feeling is gonna hurt you one day in your life
When even fourth grade starts looking good
Which you hated
And first grade's looking good too
Overrated
And you boys long for some little girl that you dated
Do you long for her or for the way you were?
That summer feeling is gonna haunt you the rest of your life
When the Oldsmobile has got the top down on it
When the catamaran has got the drop down on it
When the flat of the land has got the crop down on it
Some things look good before and some things never were
But that summer feeling is gonna haunt you one day in your life
Well when your friends are in town and they got time for you
When you and them are hanging around and they don't ignore you
When you say what you will
And they still adore you
If that's not appealing, it's that summer feeling
That summer feeling is gonna haunt you one day in your life
It's gonna haunt you
It's gonna taunt you
You're gonna want this feeling inside one more time
It's gonna haunt you
It's gonna taunt you
You're gonna want this feeling inside one more time
When you're hanging around the park with the water fountain
And there's the little girl with the dirty ankles
But she's on the swings where all the dust is kicking up
And you remember the ankle locket
And the way she flirted with you
For all this time how come?
Well that summer feeling is gonna haunt you one day in your life
You'll throw away everything for it (2X)
When the playground that just was all dirt comes haunting
And that little girl that called you a flirt
Memory comes taunting
You pick these things apart, they're not that appealing
You put them together and you'll get a certain feeling
That summer feeling is gonna haunt you one day in your life
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