Memorial Day weekend is finally upon us, along with the
unofficial start of summer.
How cool is that…unofficially?
And, unofficially, I’m pretty excited about the whole thing.
The beaches are opening…the BBQ’s are lighting…the flips are
flopping.
And everyone gets to enjoy a three day weekend to boot!
Again…unofficially…..
I don’t really get the whole “unofficial” qualifier.
I mean, obviously, I know all about the whole solstice thing
in a few weeks. We even throw a big party to celebrate.
Mostly because no one else does.
In fact, I already have a call into my Druid and Morris
Dancer guy. I don’t want to get shut out
again, like last year, and end up with those cut rate Druids who made a mess of
the whole human sacrifice thing.
Plus they don’t clean up after themselves like the real ones
do.
But the Solstice is mostly a celestial thing.
For the most part everyone thinks of Memorial Day as the actual start of the summer season.
So why not just make it official….officially.
I mean we’ve already diminished the true meaning of the day anyway,
just like we do all the other holidays we’ve co opted and moved to Mondays for
the long weekend and extended sale days.
So let’s just drop the pretense.
What…were a afraid of a few noisy Mystics and Druids?
Believe me…I know Mystics and Druids. They’re all smoke and
hot air.
Officially, Z and I still have a lot of Memorial Day
deadline work to get in.
You know…the types of things you put on yourself as a way of
getting things done before you settle in to enjoy all those lazy hazy daze.
Like putting the finishing touches on our garden planting
and mulching.
Putting away our winter clothes.
Putting the screens in the doors.
Emptying the squirrel traps.
Returning the Zamboni.
You know… those kinds of things.
Plus I should probably clean out the grill and get rid of all the accumulated grease, left over from the Carter administration.
This year I was thinking of molding a sculpture of myself with
it.
I usually try to do a clown…but it always comes out looking
like me anyway.
So why go through all that bother of trying to get the
buttons right.
Then we’ll probably go to at least a couple of holiday cook outs. But one’s with Z’s family, which means I’ll
spend most of my time fetching drinks, since most of them still think I’m the
waiter.
Another possible party situation could be with some old friends, who go way, way back.
They don’t think I’m the waiter, but they still ask me to get them drinks.
I guess it’s the white jacket…and the bowtie.
If we’re lucky we might be able to get a few hours of beach
time in.
The first day out is always exciting cuz you get to see all the
regulars again and wonder what happened to all the regulars you don’t see.
Elbow Man…Bad Body Betty…Woeful Wedgie Man with the bad tan…Loud
Talking Twosome….
There’re a lot more. I could go on and on. I haven’t even
broached the life guards yet.
I’m “Too Many Towel Guy”…or at least that’s what I would
call myself if I could see myself objectively…which is, you know…impossible.
I outlined the reasons for that moniker in my “official” beach discourse last year.
So after all the cloudy dank weather we’ve had for most of the
week, a trip to the beach would be nice…but only unofficially.
But official or not…the summer is here.
The humidity will follow….
As will the sound of backs snap, crackle popping like Rice Krispies as we
wrestle with our air conditioners, trying to combat it.
Trips to Carvel's for ice cream.
Clear starry nights and steamy summer mornings.
Ice tea, pink lemonade…and did I mention the gin and tonics.
The summer is here and I for one plan to enjoy all of it—every
single summer second of it— without looking ahead or counting down to Labor Day…the
“unofficial” end of summer…which is
only 101 measly days away.
I’m just saying….
Unofficially…..
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