Did you welcome our new guest? At 3:07 a.m. today, summer officially arrived. From here on out this year the days begin to get shorter.
To me, summer is famous for at least three things. First, the heat. In my filing system, “summer” comes right after “suffering.” Coincidence? Russell Baker noted, “Ah, summer, what power you have to make us suffer and like it.”
Second, the vacations. Robert Orben said, “A vacation is having nothing to do and all day to do it in.” Like Calvin said to his pal Hobbes, “There’s never enough time to do all the nothing you want.”
Third, the Fourth of July. In June, July and August it is the only major holiday, besides my birthday.
Remember the smell of suntan lotion at the beach, the taste of salt water and salt water taffy, the hum of mid-afternoon cicadas and the hauntingly soft glow of lightning bugs at dusk?
And oh, yes, the songs. Cruel Summer? (Banarama, 1983). Not with the blowing of a Summer Breeze (Seals and Croft, 1972). There Ain’t No Cure for the Summertime Blues (Eddie Cochrane, 1960), so you might as well have Hot Fun in the Summertime (Sly and the Family Stone, 1969).
Gershwin says it’s “summertime and the living is easy.” Mungo Jerry reminds us “in the summertime when the weather is hot you can stretch right up and touch the sky.” Martha and her Vandellas tells us that “summer’s here and the time is right for dancing in the streets.” Yes, Percy Faith, there is a Summer Place.
While on the topic of music, our Folsom/El Dorado Hills area has four outdoor concerts each week through much of the summer. It’s local fun, as free as the blazing sunshine.
Come to think of it, perhaps it is more accurate to say that we are the guest here. After all, summer will keep hosting new generations, long after we are gone like last year’s tomatoes. In Genesis 8:22, God says, “While the earth remains, seedtime and harvest, and cold and heat, and summer and winter, and day and night shall not cease.”
More accurately, we have a new host, named Summer. As Chad and Jeremy sang in “A Summer Song,” “they say that all good things must end someday.” But thankfully not for at least one more beautiful summer night.
Tom Rupp is a resident of Folsom and a weekly columnist in the Folsom Telegraph. You can reach him at firstname.lastname@example.org.