Saturday, July 5, 2014

One Has To Stop And Consider

When one wakes up on July 5th to a 60 degree morning, no humidity, strong breeze, trees swaying, and one's thoughts immediately turn to football - not in a lucid kind of way but in a reactive kind of way - one must stop and consider.

This ain't summer, baby. Summer is not supposed to mimic fall.

There are a hell of a lot of people out there who will say "Thank God the humidity is gone. It was awful. This is what I need."

Wrong. You don't get to have it both ways.

If you are going to defend winter with all that "I love the four seasons" crap, then you need to suffer through summer. Experience summer. The real summer.

Summer is supposed to be hot and humid. Specifically, for people like me, it is the only time of year I am warm from the inside out, bones and all. The only fucking time I am comfortable in this godforsaken climate.

More generally, for the rest of the population, heat and humidity slow you down. Summer is designed to force you to apply the brake peddle so you can look around. It gives you an excuse to say "Fire up the barby, baby - we're doin' ribs and The Sox tonight."

Or "Baby, let's chow at that quaint outdoor grill we've been coveting", or "Honey Pie let's grab our cheap, worn out lawn chairs and attend that outdoor concert we always miss."

Or "Baby Doll, I'll mix up a pitcher full of strawberry margaritas and we'll sit by the garden and talk."

The whole point of summer, its very function as designed by Mother Nature herself, is to force us to take a look around. To slow our goddamn lives down and appreciate simple pleasures, warm nights, the ease and comfort of T-shirts and shorts, and each other's company.

Summer does this by dialing up the thermometer.

My entire body is in football mode this morning. Feels like I should turn on the television machine at 1:00 this afternoon to watch THE PATS demolish Seattle.

I am not thinking this. I am feeling it.

Just like flowers that bloom on a 93 degree April morning only to be frozen solid on a 42 degree May a.m.

It is a beautiful day. We are going to have fun today. Got plans. Plans that involve the outdoors.

But it ain't summer.

We'll be moving too fast. We'll have too much energy. We'll be thinking about our jobs and limited disposable income because our brains respond to the cold.

Brains should slog in the summer. They should function intermittently. They should be anesthetized by the heat.

In that condition, pain is greatly lessened and thoughts tend towards pleasure because it takes too much effort to fire up the neurons to consider responsible topics.

Each season serves a specific function.

Winter reminds us how stuck we are in our lives when we stick around to endure killer cold.

Spring gives birth to hope, which is vital to keep us doing what the world demands of us.

Fall exists only to bring us football.

Summer, yeah summer is the season that makes us realize that we are human. It slows us down and forces us to see the good things in our lives that we spend the rest of the year rushing past.

Enjoy today. But do not tell me that it is a beautiful summer day. Do not tell me that this is what summer should be.

If some have to suffer through New England's infamous 10 month winter, than some have to suffer through summer. Real summer, hot and humid.

You don't get to have it both ways.

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