Boy Of Summer

I'm not sure where the local news programs get their weather people, but apparently it's from an over-excitable part of the country, from a college with a serious coke problem. Pick a channel, it don't matter, and the Seattle weather person will practically explode in a fury of sensible suited, orthodontically corrected, cement coiffed shrapnel telling you what the sky's gonna let loose on you today.

And when the weather gets like it is today, clear and sunny in all its pre-summer glory, the weather folks get all a' tremble, their eyes rolling back as they get towards the five day forecast, loads shot on the green screen behind them.

But alas, weather guy 'gasms are not the point here, the point is that when the weather gets to be all clear and warm up here I cannot help but think back to this time of year when I was a child. There are two specific days that always come to mind, the first a late May day in fifth grade. The sky was a spotless pale blue and the fold out, half windows in the classroom were opened in opposition to the stuffiness. I could smell the grass that had just been cut out on the playground.

I distinctly remember this precise moment of stillness where I understood that for the rest of my days, this day would be my example of late spring/early summer. A strange thought for an 11 year old to have, for sure, but it was there nonetheless. It's as if the me right now, in typing the words here at my work desk, somehow invaded the space/time continuum and put the thoughts in my own head so many years ago. I remember the feeling of youth, the strange power involved in that, and the overwhelming love, like the baby snake unwittingly pushing out too much poison, which coursed through me for the girl that had stopped my heart when I first met her in second grade.

All of it's wrapped up in a shiny ball of memory and definition.

The other day occurred a year later towards our last day of sixth grade. We had a skate day for the sixth graders at the Skate King, and then Chris had a party at his house for our class after that. I had held hands with the above mentioned girl at the Skate King so I was feeling pretty fly, pretty bad ass if you will. I remember sitting on the deck at Chris' place, the coconut smell of tanning oil being put on the arms of some of the young ladies nearby, again freshly cut grass, again an unmarked sky, and again that strange moment of stillness where the volume gets turned down on the rest of the world and I can barely breathe. I remember thinking that everything changes after this, that all of us were rushing headlong into adulthood and tossing our innocence behind us. I wanted to stop everything for just a moment and hold onto the world I was about to let go of. I wanted to tell Steve that Kristin was not only uninterested, but was not ready for a boyfriend. I wanted to grab Chris and make him promise me that we would be friends forever. I wanted to hold the girls hand again, maybe even embrace for a lingering moment.

But the moment ended and I went on drinking Capri Sun and acting like the foolish 12 year old that I was.

So, while fall is my main man season, the one that really does it for me, with spring running a close second, there's something about spring's broad jump into summer that reminds me for a scant moment of that stomach churning excitement of being a kid again.


Song Stuck In My Head Right Now: "Up On Cripple Creek" by The Band. This beats the living hell out of Gin Blossom's "Hey Jealousy" that's been in there for the past two days.

Crap, "Hey Jealousy" is back...