THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1997, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, February 9, 1997 TAG: 9702090076
SECTION: LOCAL PAGE: B1 EDITION: NORTH CAROLINA
TYPE: Column
SOURCE: Paul South
LENGTH: 62 lines
For much of this week, February caught a break.
A couple of days were kissed by April, with a whisper that summer is just on the other side of the block.
That got me thinking of things I miss about summer. This is a wonderful time for such idle stuff, given that February is frankly kind of lousy. I mean, after all, the month's big holidays celebrate a large weather-forecasting rodent (the ground hog), President's Day (a great time to catch mattresses on sale), and Valentine's Day (OK, I'm cynical).
But summer will be here before we know it, complete with all its pleasures and pitfalls.
Here's a brief list of things I miss about summer:
Baseball. The pros are overpaid and the club owners are greedy. But the joys of watching the precision of Atlanta's Greg Maddux, the elegance of New York's Bernie Williams, the grace of Seattle's Ken Griffey Jr. and the consistency of Baltimore's Cal Ripken Jr. make all the other garbage bearable. And anyone who remembers Nashville's Jeff Parsons and his dramatic homer to win the Babe Ruth World Series can take heart that despite all the madness in the major leagues, baseball is still a great game.
Daylight Savings Time. Two or three hours of light and warmth after work to sit on the porch, play nine holes of golf or walk barefooted on the beach. Shoes on the beach are like peanut butter on collard greens - a bad fit.
Drive-In Eateries. One of the great joys of life here is a dolphin boat and a large milkshake, especially on bright days when the sun shines like a jewel. Foot-long chili dogs and peanut butter, chocolate and banana shakes, backed by the sounds of Bill Deal and the Rhondells on the radio on a humid July night make it seem like 1963 all over again.
Produce stands. Sweet cantaloupes and strawberries. The best on God's green earth come from North Carolina. Fat red tomatoes good for sandwiches and salads.
Gardening. I never thought I'd say this. But last summer after tending to geraniums and impatiens, I really find it pretty relaxing. Something about getting the dirt under your fingernails that feels good, like you're tending your own little piece of earth.
Long lingering evenings when the night is blue velvet. A gentle breeze blows. Friends drop by. And the only sounds on the porch are frogs, crickets and friendly laughter.
There are a few other things that bear mention: Shorts. Golf shirts. Lemonade. Softshell crabs. Dare Day. Fourth of July fireworks. The Drifters. The way it feels when your hair dries naturally in the morning sun. The cool sweat that soaks into your shirt collar, providing natural air-conditioning. Cookouts. Suntans. Fireflies. Convertible tops and sunroofs.
And there are a few things that summer could stand to leave out of its suitcase.
I really don't miss: Hurricanes. Yellow flies. Mosquitoes as big as tennis balls. Rain on Saturdays. Long Par-5s. Weekend lines at the grocery store. People who ask how far it is between mileposts (it happens). And lastly, the end of summer.
There was a time, not so long ago, when a summer day seemed a month long. And now, though we are older, it seems easier to take off the worries of the world in July than it does in February. Winter, with its heavy coats and sweaters, hides us, like prisoners in a world of wool.
Summer, on the other hand, feels like freedom.