Summer ain't so hot
I am not in love with summer. I do not spend every waking moment of the four-month stretch after my March birthday anticipating summer, extolling the virtues of summer, basking in the glow of summer, lamenting the relative un-summeriness of this summer compared to last summer and/or the expected summer quotient given the current calendar month and the "long-ass winter we just had", reveling with sheer joy in all things summery - flip flops, beach trips, sunbathing, iced lattés, Sublime tunes, etc. - to the point of obnoxiousness, or dejectedly reminding all and sundry about the impending autumn and how "it feels like it was May just a few weeks ago, waaaah, what happened?" I have neither the physical fortitude nor the attention span to handle another month of summer's suffocating omnipresence, so I don't want to hear your moaning. Move to Florida if you love the heat so much. Me, I'd like to stop sweating for a day.
And if that day comes before September, so much the better, but I'll gladly wait until the proper calender autumn for the cooler air to make its triumphant return. Ah, autumn. A good crisp fall day is like a gift from baby Jesus to me. The leaves are turning, so summer's whitewashed color palette is giving way to richer, deeper hues and more interesting contrasts. I can stop fighting my natural coloring with pastels and primaries and start wearing jewel tones and black, in all of its various permutations, again. I can put away the shorts and flip-flops, which flatter my chicken legs and bony feet about as much as that animal on top of Rihanna's head flatters her facial structure, and start wearing jeans. Dark jeans. Dark jeans that can hug my legs and not create a second skin of sweat halfway through the day. And shoes! Shoes with socks! Maybe even a snappy blazer or a zip-up hoodie! Oh, it's like Christmas morning.
Don't get me wrong, every once in a while a day that feels like it's trapped inside a sauna can strike my fancy. I like being in the sun - it's a refresher after being stuck inside during the winter months - but up to a point it becomes a kind of slow torture, that point being about 28 degrees Celsius with no breeze. Then every action becomes an effort, every movement an inch further away from "comfortably warm" to "sweet Jesus how much sweat can one human body create why is no one else as visibly dewy as I am OH MY GOD AIR CONDITIONING MY KINGDOM FOR AIR CONDITIONING". Isn't this Canada? When did London, Ontario relocate to the surface of the sun?
Y'all can worship summer; my faith is firmly rooted in the Good Book of September and Beyond. Your move, Mother Nature.
And if that day comes before September, so much the better, but I'll gladly wait until the proper calender autumn for the cooler air to make its triumphant return. Ah, autumn. A good crisp fall day is like a gift from baby Jesus to me. The leaves are turning, so summer's whitewashed color palette is giving way to richer, deeper hues and more interesting contrasts. I can stop fighting my natural coloring with pastels and primaries and start wearing jewel tones and black, in all of its various permutations, again. I can put away the shorts and flip-flops, which flatter my chicken legs and bony feet about as much as that animal on top of Rihanna's head flatters her facial structure, and start wearing jeans. Dark jeans. Dark jeans that can hug my legs and not create a second skin of sweat halfway through the day. And shoes! Shoes with socks! Maybe even a snappy blazer or a zip-up hoodie! Oh, it's like Christmas morning.
Don't get me wrong, every once in a while a day that feels like it's trapped inside a sauna can strike my fancy. I like being in the sun - it's a refresher after being stuck inside during the winter months - but up to a point it becomes a kind of slow torture, that point being about 28 degrees Celsius with no breeze. Then every action becomes an effort, every movement an inch further away from "comfortably warm" to "sweet Jesus how much sweat can one human body create why is no one else as visibly dewy as I am OH MY GOD AIR CONDITIONING MY KINGDOM FOR AIR CONDITIONING". Isn't this Canada? When did London, Ontario relocate to the surface of the sun?
Y'all can worship summer; my faith is firmly rooted in the Good Book of September and Beyond. Your move, Mother Nature.
This entry was posted by Darryl, on
Sunday, August 16, 2009.
You can leave your response.
