Summer Til I Die

“Are you ready for fall?” I asked one of my roommates last night.

“Yes.”

“Want to get into some of those fall fashions?” I prodded.

“No it's 9 o'clock at night and it's 97 degrees out.”

“Ha.”

“And yes. By the end of a season, I start to get excited about clothes I get to wear again. At the beginning of summer, I was excited to wear questionably short shorts and boat shoes.”

We’re just over one month into the scientifically defined season of summer, but in the midst one of the hottest and driest summers in the last 50 years, there’s already an itch in the air, grumblings about the welcome that cooler air will bring, including but not limited to the ability to make a five or more minute drive without seriously considering planning a ‘driving shirt’ so you don’t prematurely change the color of your back from periwinkle to indigo before you’ve even splashed the scene. As a recent automotive surgery forced two buses, a train, and over a mile of walking to get to work while I once again wait for my car (yes, the same issue), I can tell you that it doesn’t get a whole lot more refreshing outside the vehicle. I’m thinking I should have worn shorts and changed when I got to work. Hindsight. Regardless, since June 8^th (an arbitrary date chosen to make the stats seem more amazing), so the last 49 days, we’ve had 41 days with a high temperature 85 degrees or higher, 25 of those 90 degrees or higher, 5 of those 100 degrees or higher, including yesterday. It’s been warm.

Over the course of those 49 days, how many days have I been active, as in, not just come home, make dinner, watch some TV, and go to bed? I don’t have that number, but I can tell you with wavering certainty that it closely resembles the amount of days that it was 85 degrees or higher, give or take, over the same time period. Have I been uncomfortable during drives home, distraught over what to wear on a first date, nervous with my sweaty hands on a softball bat, beyond exhausted after an hour of basketball, suddenly aware of even the smallest sanction of shade during wiffle ball? Unequivocally. But the truth is, I was able to see, do, meet, try, and live more in the last 49 days, if even at times despite the weather. These sentiments cannot be repeated in 6 months.

I’m looking forward to fall. Reasonable temperatures, football Saturdays, football Sundays, baseball playoffs, wearing hoodies again, reconnecting with my indoor volleyball team, celebrating my birthday, you know, the important stuff that everyone can appreciate. But in no way am I ready to give up on summer yet. Fingers crossed, we have two more months of 70s and 80s, giving me enough motivation to wear myself as thin as possible and do as much as possible while it’s still possible. The worst thing about fall is that it shares a border with winter. And winter only has about three things going for it. And two of them involve snowboarding.

So it will be nice to put together a nice outfit with dress shoes and not sweat like I’m being chased by a lion, in Africa, but I’m not ready to hang up the flip flops, sun, boat, BBQs, marathon bags days, street fests, outside drinking games, planning for fantasy football, being active 5-6 nights a week, and every other amazing aspect that summer has to offer, whether it’s 75 or 105, I will use up every ounce of summer I have. I know what’s coming. It will get here soon enough. What do to we say to it? Not today.