THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Saturday, September 2, 1995 TAG: 9509010133
SECTION: DAILY BREAK PAGE: E1 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Column
SOURCE: Larry Maddry
LENGTH: Medium: 60 lines
I'VE ALREADY SEEN advertising for ``end of summer'' sales. Schools are about to open doors again because summer is over. Department store windows are showing winter sport coats and wool shirts.
Madness, all of it.
In the north, summer might be over, but down here in the mule and magnolia belt, it is just warming up. We've got at least six more weeks of summer or I'll Cuisinart my pocket calendar and eat it with grits.
Labor Day the end of summer? Give me a break.
Summer is not over until the last of the home-grown tomatoes is gone.
It's not over until the raises its head over a sparkling tangle of frost-coated grass in the yard.
It's not over until large stacks of firewood and smaller heaps of kindling, smell sharp and sweet on the back porch.
It's not over until the first persimmon turns jack-o-lantern orange and drops from the tree.
It's not over until sweaters smelling of mothballs are aired and shook for wearing.
It's not over until nobody walks on the beach barefoot any more.
And certainly not until the air conditioning has been turned off for good.
End of summer Labor Day? Nonsense. The first day of autumn - at the time of the equinox - is Sept. 23. Those insisting that summer ends on Labor Day, please tell me in what season the 18 days after Labor Day but before the equinox fall?
Sumfall? Fallsum? Balderdash.
It has been wisely said that God gave liberty to humans on the condition that they exercise eternal vigilance. If they can monkey around with the calendar and make the first Monday in September the end of summer, what is to stop the idiots from putting Easter in June or Christmas in November? The calendar conspirators are capable of anything.
Is it any surprise that distrust of government is at a new high? Small wonder disgruntled militias are doing maneuvers in the woods.
Maybe in Minnesota, Maine or even Canada, summer is over. But to put the monicker of autumn on September in the South - when Slurpees liquify in about two minutes under the broiling sun - is to toss logic out the window. Truth is, summer isn't over until mid-October, usually.
The offending seasonal nomenclature mocks the efforts of both man and beast in their attempts to harmonize with the seasons.
Brisk in fall, slow in summer - that's the ticket.
This is certainly no time to be risking a heart attack by bustling about, storing and repairing things, or cleaning out the basement.
Maybe you'd like to join the Keep Summer Long Club. If so, membership is easy. Just string a hammock in a shady place on the lawn. Then, with a frosty glass of tea within easy reach, take a nice - and certainly well-deserved - summer nap.
Yep, that should do it. by CNB