Summer seems to be most people's favorite time of year. Kids are out of school, young adults have what amounts to seven day weekends and for most adults they receive their vacation time. They pack up their families and head to distant or not so distant lands. Pretty much, as long as there is a beach, it's a happy getaway.
Maybe it's my age or my situation at this age, but I never really look forward to summer anymore. Don't get me wrong, I love the occasional BBQ, but the reality is, it's always been my least favorite season. For one, I don't like hot weather. Pretty much anything over 72 degrees I consider hot. I don't like the ridiculous amounts of traffic on the road either. Everyone is in slow down mode and it makes getting from A to B a nightmare. I also don't like fireworks, so the beginning of the summer is very frustrating to me. Not only the incessant noise, but the litter that is left behind by these one second pops. Summer isn't what it used to be and I blame no one.
When I was younger, my parents and I seemed to alternate summer going to West Cornwall, Ct. and Alna, Me. West Cornwall was where my cousins had a house and they would let us stay there for a week or two. We'd swim and sunbathe all day. Sit on the giant deck which was about two stories high and look at the birds and deer, and the occasional bear, that would walk by. We'd sip cocktails, mine of the virgin variety, and eat lovely meals while watching the sunset. I'd shag flies or play tennis with my father or go into town and do some sight seeing with my mother and it was always a joy. In Maine, there was a lot more to do, even though we spent our summers in a tiny town. A quick drive to Bath or Boothbay Harbor was a fun time though. We canoed down rivers, swam in tiny water holes and spent time on a screened in porch eating lobster or burgers and dogs. Life was simple and wonderful.
As I got older and started staying home most summers and working. Occasionally I'd go with friends on a weekend getaway, but for the most part my post high school years has been spent working. I did however spend four years working at a camp in NH and they were, hands down, the four greatest summers of my life. It's been eleven years since I've spent a summer there and honestly, a summer day doesn't go by where I don't wish it were ten years earlier. It was, for lack of a better word, heaven.
Lately many of my friends have squashed vacation plans due to monetary reasons, children that are to young to reasonably enjoy the time away or they have to work. Times are tough and it's taken it's toll on a lot of people's psyche. Many people are content with their membership to the local pool and lay around, fake smiling to their neighbors, pretending this is where they want to be. Myself, I don't really know where I want to be. I don't miss laying on the hot sand, spending my nights rubbing aloe on my skin. I don't the smell of salt water and the dryness. I don't miss the exhaustion one gets from pretty much doing nothing on a hot day. I miss sitting at a table, in she shade, by the water, a glass of sangria, telling stories and listening to tales of others. The one thing that always bothered me about the beach is that nobody really talks. Sure they utter some words or ask for a drink, but for the most part, it's nothing more than pretending to sleep in the hopes to look a little darker than the day before. I miss getting into a car, music blaring and everyone thinking the same thing. I miss, pulling over on the side of the road and grabbing a cone or a beer, not caring if we got to our destination in five minutes of five hours. I miss spontaneity.
I remember when all my friends were single, we'd have BBQ's all the time. Even if the BBQ consisted of three burgers and two hot dogs for four people and a case of beer. We'd play bocce or some other form of sport which you could participate without lowering your beer. I love kids, love them to death, but they seem to suck the life out of people these days. What has happened in 30-40 years that has made entertaining with children such a hassle? My parents entertained almost every weekend. Nothing fancy, some wine, cheese, maybe some light fare for dinner. Friends would bring wine and beer and they'd sit for hours laughing. I was there, so were their children. Occasionally we'd interrupt and ask for something and any of the people who were there would help themselves in serving us what we needed, if it was there house or not. This was not a problem. I don't know why it is now.
I sometimes wish I was rich, for many reason. I don't need a flashy car or a huge house. I don't need a boat or to travel to far away lands every week. No, I wish I could have enough money, to invite people over. To tell them not to worry about bringing anything. To supply them with the food, the drink, the entertainment that they used to have. I wish I had the space to have all of their children over, to play, to laugh and to entertain themselves. I wish I could do this for all of my friends who have forgot what fun for them is. Sure it's great to watch your offspring in the school play, on the baseball field or to receive a belt in karate. Sure it gives you pleasure and makes you proud, but remember when happiness was as simple as sitting by an outdoor fire, bare feet up, glass of wine in your hand? I remember those days vividly. I go to bars and hang out with other single and some married friends. I spend money I don't have trying to attain what is so simple t attain with a handful of dollars and some phone calls. People don't believe me because of my lifestyle, but should I ever be fortunate enough to have a place with space. Even a little space, there won't be a weekend night I'm not trying to invite people over. Sure my bartender friends would take offense, but I'd be sure to keep a few cold ones on ice for them when they're done.
Tonight I had one drink. I sat on the porch with my father and I rambled on about different topics. I sipped my drink slowly. Not a care in the world. It wasn't about getting drunk. It wasn't about fitting enough fun in between 7-11. It was about relaxing on a beautiful summer night. The way it should be.
A little side note: About ten seconds after I finished this, I saw a picture of a friend camping with here bare feet up by a fire pit. Maybe all isn't wrong with the world.
Maybe it's my age or my situation at this age, but I never really look forward to summer anymore. Don't get me wrong, I love the occasional BBQ, but the reality is, it's always been my least favorite season. For one, I don't like hot weather. Pretty much anything over 72 degrees I consider hot. I don't like the ridiculous amounts of traffic on the road either. Everyone is in slow down mode and it makes getting from A to B a nightmare. I also don't like fireworks, so the beginning of the summer is very frustrating to me. Not only the incessant noise, but the litter that is left behind by these one second pops. Summer isn't what it used to be and I blame no one.
When I was younger, my parents and I seemed to alternate summer going to West Cornwall, Ct. and Alna, Me. West Cornwall was where my cousins had a house and they would let us stay there for a week or two. We'd swim and sunbathe all day. Sit on the giant deck which was about two stories high and look at the birds and deer, and the occasional bear, that would walk by. We'd sip cocktails, mine of the virgin variety, and eat lovely meals while watching the sunset. I'd shag flies or play tennis with my father or go into town and do some sight seeing with my mother and it was always a joy. In Maine, there was a lot more to do, even though we spent our summers in a tiny town. A quick drive to Bath or Boothbay Harbor was a fun time though. We canoed down rivers, swam in tiny water holes and spent time on a screened in porch eating lobster or burgers and dogs. Life was simple and wonderful.
As I got older and started staying home most summers and working. Occasionally I'd go with friends on a weekend getaway, but for the most part my post high school years has been spent working. I did however spend four years working at a camp in NH and they were, hands down, the four greatest summers of my life. It's been eleven years since I've spent a summer there and honestly, a summer day doesn't go by where I don't wish it were ten years earlier. It was, for lack of a better word, heaven.
Lately many of my friends have squashed vacation plans due to monetary reasons, children that are to young to reasonably enjoy the time away or they have to work. Times are tough and it's taken it's toll on a lot of people's psyche. Many people are content with their membership to the local pool and lay around, fake smiling to their neighbors, pretending this is where they want to be. Myself, I don't really know where I want to be. I don't miss laying on the hot sand, spending my nights rubbing aloe on my skin. I don't the smell of salt water and the dryness. I don't miss the exhaustion one gets from pretty much doing nothing on a hot day. I miss sitting at a table, in she shade, by the water, a glass of sangria, telling stories and listening to tales of others. The one thing that always bothered me about the beach is that nobody really talks. Sure they utter some words or ask for a drink, but for the most part, it's nothing more than pretending to sleep in the hopes to look a little darker than the day before. I miss getting into a car, music blaring and everyone thinking the same thing. I miss, pulling over on the side of the road and grabbing a cone or a beer, not caring if we got to our destination in five minutes of five hours. I miss spontaneity.
I remember when all my friends were single, we'd have BBQ's all the time. Even if the BBQ consisted of three burgers and two hot dogs for four people and a case of beer. We'd play bocce or some other form of sport which you could participate without lowering your beer. I love kids, love them to death, but they seem to suck the life out of people these days. What has happened in 30-40 years that has made entertaining with children such a hassle? My parents entertained almost every weekend. Nothing fancy, some wine, cheese, maybe some light fare for dinner. Friends would bring wine and beer and they'd sit for hours laughing. I was there, so were their children. Occasionally we'd interrupt and ask for something and any of the people who were there would help themselves in serving us what we needed, if it was there house or not. This was not a problem. I don't know why it is now.
I sometimes wish I was rich, for many reason. I don't need a flashy car or a huge house. I don't need a boat or to travel to far away lands every week. No, I wish I could have enough money, to invite people over. To tell them not to worry about bringing anything. To supply them with the food, the drink, the entertainment that they used to have. I wish I had the space to have all of their children over, to play, to laugh and to entertain themselves. I wish I could do this for all of my friends who have forgot what fun for them is. Sure it's great to watch your offspring in the school play, on the baseball field or to receive a belt in karate. Sure it gives you pleasure and makes you proud, but remember when happiness was as simple as sitting by an outdoor fire, bare feet up, glass of wine in your hand? I remember those days vividly. I go to bars and hang out with other single and some married friends. I spend money I don't have trying to attain what is so simple t attain with a handful of dollars and some phone calls. People don't believe me because of my lifestyle, but should I ever be fortunate enough to have a place with space. Even a little space, there won't be a weekend night I'm not trying to invite people over. Sure my bartender friends would take offense, but I'd be sure to keep a few cold ones on ice for them when they're done.
Tonight I had one drink. I sat on the porch with my father and I rambled on about different topics. I sipped my drink slowly. Not a care in the world. It wasn't about getting drunk. It wasn't about fitting enough fun in between 7-11. It was about relaxing on a beautiful summer night. The way it should be.
A little side note: About ten seconds after I finished this, I saw a picture of a friend camping with here bare feet up by a fire pit. Maybe all isn't wrong with the world.
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