Sunday evening I had a terrible jones for some ice cream. Not just any ice cream, mind you, but a DQ Blizzard. Chocolate ice cream with Reese's Peanut Butter Cups crushed up in the soft serve.
Well, as I was walked out of my building into the gloaming I had a sudden thought: Holy Crap! We’re halfway through August and the sun’s already going down at 7:45. Damn. Where the hell did my summer go?
Now I know how Calvin felt when he realized he and Hobbs only had one day left of summer vacation. One day for the two of them to cram all the fun things they hadn’t done into the time he’s got left before heading back to Ms. Wormwood’s classroom.
These used to be the best days of the summer. The days were spent at the pool or exploring the woods after, that is, fighting with my brothers about who would mow the lawn or do other chores that morning.
And the nights, ahh, the nights, let’s all just take a moment to reflect back on those summer nights. They were the sweetest time of all. Running around the neighborhood playing hide-and-go-seek and kick the can and sneaking smokes and, if we were lucky, a drink or two.
I’d also like to add this: man, could I send that Folgers can flying. Just the right technique.
Do kids still do those things? Are they allowed to just play and get dirty? Or does it all have to have something to do with their getting into an Ivy League college? Escape and evasion can be very handy skills for a young man; you can’t just stand still and hope she, like T-rex, won’t be able to see you.
One of the best descriptions of summer I’ve ever heard is on Fuzzatonic Scream by Bobby Gaylor. The track “One Moment” talks about his summer days and nights in some New England town and falling in love for the first time one night…and the next day being dragged kicking and screaming on a family vacation to the Grand Canyon.
That’s not to say I haven’t had fun this summer. My friends and I have been to Screen on the Green, the Tattoo at the Marine Corps War Memorial, HMS Pinafore at Wolf Trap, Nats’ games, bike rides, drinks at Polly’s and walks here and there, and I spent a great weekend celebrating my dad’s 75th b-day with the whole family.
But shouldn’t summer be more? I really can’t put my finger on what the “more” is in this case, although a water slide or amusement park springs to mind.
I don’t mind the longing, though. It reminds me I’m still young enough to recognize what summer is supposed to be: a time of joy to be spent and shared with friends.
And the Blizzard? Delish...