Summer 2021 isn’t officially here but I am already longing for those “Lazy, Hazy, Crazy Days of Summer” described by Nat King Cole in his 1963 hit. Perhaps I adjusted to the slower pandemic pace of 2020 more than I realize. Of course I’m rejoicing at the welcome roll-back of eased restrictions but the options for summer outings seem overwhelming! In Missouri we have the ‘hazy’ mastered, and ‘crazy’ aptly describes the world. What happened to those ‘lazy’ days? My body wants to sit on the porch with “soda and pretzels and beer” while I read, listen to the radio and occasionally swat a fly or mosquito.
I am resisting the tendency to cram all the fun I can into three months – a season that seems to grow shorter and shorter the longer I live. It didn’t seem too short when I was a kid, nor did it to Mom on one particularly sultry summer morning. Because three sulking kids were making the day loom endlessly, Mom “packed a basket full of sandwiches and weenies” and took us to the park. Maybe she hoped a change of scenery would pick up the pace and alter the vibe of the day. Her hopes were high enough she even packed the camera. Her mission to eke out some fun and frolic proved impossible. The evidence? Three cranky faces glaring from an album page of black and white photos.
As a youngster I never wished that “summer could always be here” as touted in the tune. I liked summer but I loved school and as an oldster I’d prefer not to mow and sweat year-round. I will “dust off the sun and moon and sing a song of cheer” for summer, planning my activities to allow for plenty of tunes, books and porch-sitting.
Written for Close to Home column in 6/2021 for hometown weekly The Prospect-News