Personal

In the Summertime

I have some things to say but this is neither the time nor the place. I suppose I could forego that previous sentence and start with this one since you don’t need to know that I have something to say if I am not going to say it. But I stand by my saying it so that you and I both know that I have some important things to say.

Tonight has been the perfect summer night. It was warm today, but the cool of night brought relief - the kind where you drive around with all your car windows rolled down, the music far louder than it needs to be. The air temperature makes me nostalgic of being a child and playing in the street well into the night. The feel of sweat cooling my body, only to be foiled when I must go back inside the still warm house for bed.

I tell you this so you know where I am coming from when I say: Southern California is the most damn wretched place in the summertime. The sting of the air when walking into 105 degree heat from a 70 degree room. Having to wear pants at work, my navy uniform absorbing the summer sun. Nearly instantly my armpits, and nearly every crevice, becomes engorged with sweat. I find refuge in the shade and cold hospitals, the sweat dries just when I need to go back outside. Repeat the process a dozen times per day. The night rarely is as cool as you hope. Sleeping in underwear is little relief unless a constant stream of air pours over my body. All this only to wake up to the stench of my armpits the next morning. Thank God no one is ever close enough to me to notice.

And this is how life really is in southern California from June-September. Don’t let silly shows like The O.C. fool you, for life in The Inland Valley is not all roses and beautiful people. Mungo Jerry and I do not see completely eye to eye:

In the summertime when the weather’s high,
you can stretch right up and touch the sky,
when the weather’s fine,
you got women, you got women on your mind.
Have a drink, have a drive,
go out and see what you can find.

If her daddy’s rich, take her out for a meal.
If her daddy’s poor, just do as you feel.
Speed along the lane,
Do a ton, or a ton and twenty-five.
When the sun goes down, you can make it,
make it good in a lay-by.

We’re not grey people, we’re not dirty, we’re not mean.
We love everybody, but we do as we think.
When the weather’s fine
we go fishing or go swimming in the sea.
We’re always happy,
life’s for living, yeah, that’s our philosophy.

When the winter’s here, then it’s party time.
Bring a bottle, wear your bright clothes.
It’ll soon be summertime, and we’ll sing again,
we’ll go drivin’ or maybe we’ll settle down.
If she’s rich, if she’s nice,
bring you’re friends and we’ll all go into town.

Mungo Jerry, “In the Summertime”

© 2008 Jon Shoemaker.