Midsummer Murmuring

Summer began officially on June 21st. It’s only the 2nd week of July but if you live in the Midwest, you know that it’s midsummer. Of course, if you reside in a southern or southwestern state like most of my family and friends, it’s the middle of “hot as hell with no relief in sight” season.  We take turns complaining about the weather. I bitch and moan  about ice, snow and below zero temperatures all winter long while they point fingers and mock me. “Come to Florida or Arizona (wherever), it’s so nice!” Not laughing now, are you, as you peel your seared flesh off the leather car seats?

The first sure sign of midsummer is the massive sales of all warm weather clothes. Even though we just started wearing shorts and sandals,  merchants need to make room for coats and sweaters. The Sunday papers are full of back to school supplies ads.  Although I no longer have to buy backpacks, new calculators or pens, as soon as I see these ads, I can feel the cold winds of winter creeping in. It’s probably just the a/c set too low but you get the idea.  Hell, I haven’t even gotten into my bathing suit yet. Don’t show me sweaters and coats! Too soon, too soon.

Perhaps we can work out a compromise. I’ll gladly buy shorts, tank tops and sandals at reduced prices but the warm clothes and boots will be hidden away, shown only to those who request them, sort of like those rooms small video stores used to have in the back behind a black curtain. Instead of “You must be 21 to enter”, the sign will say “You have given up on being warm and your soul is made of ice.” This way I can wallow in the illusion that winter will never come.  I raise my cold glass of iced tea in a toast. I’d rather sweat than shiver. Long live Summer!

 

About Julie Brandon

60ish poet/playwright/blogger living near the Windy City
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