Indian Summer

It was hot today. The kind of cantankerous September heat that signals the last days of summer, the burning ember at the bottom of the campfire, flaring up for one last hopeful go at sparking a conflagration. Alas, it’s too late, the seasons are moving on, inevitably, but with all the dull insincerity of a forgetful boyfriend. “Oh, it’s our anniversary? Already? I mean, I’m sorry, I forgot to get you something, but we can get Chinese or whatever.” Yes, thank you for the unseasonable warmth, September, but to be honest, let’s go ahead and start fall.

It’s not so much that I want to see the leaves change colors – watch as they brighten my world with their explosive palette, then just as quickly fall off and die, leaving a barren wasteland not so dissimilar from Chernobyl’s leftovers. No, I’m looking forward to the events of fall – football, apple-picking, pumpkins, Halloween, Oktoberfest, Columbus Day, uh, the new Paranormal Activity movie, and, um, football again? College football? Oh, I guess the new PA is coming out in January, my bad. Well, strike that from the list. So, fall is good for a couple holidays, at least two excellent reasons to drink heavily, a gourd, and men slamming into each other at high speeds while producing really exquisite grunts. Damn, when you put it that way, let’s have fall all the time.

I’m exaggerating. Fall is great. The searing heat of summer slips away, leaving behind temperatures you can face in clothes that leave more to the imagination. Pants, for example, I’m looking forward to wearing pants. Not that I don’t love producing my lily-white thighs for every occasion but, as noted, they are suspiciously lily-white. It’s like when you learned that black people have no pigment on their palms. Remember that revelation? Well, okay, at least I was floored. Anyway, it’s like that, except you’ll go blind if you look at my thighs. And long-sleeve shirts! I hate to admit it, but I’ve worn all the t-shirts I like at least once and, unless you’re ripped, they don’t really flatter the wearer. It’s like draping yourself in a piece of loose, colored cloth that screams, “I’m really very warm right now!” Give me layers any day.

And I guess fall is a time of renewal, in it’s own way. People think of spring as the first season, the sprouts bursting from the warming soil as a reminder that, hey, life exists! But before all that could happen, the good green leaves had to turn brown and die, right? The plants wither, the animals hoard, the humans shuffle inside to the warm glow of the television. It’s the renewal before the renewal, essentially. You can’t have a rebirth unless everything dies first. Why do you think we celebrate all that Biblical stuff about Jesus? Everyone looks forward to the Second Coming, i.e. spring, but they mostly talk about how he died and was reborn and died again or whatever, i.e. fall. I’m just saying, I’m not a theology major, but I did go to a Unitarian Universalist service once. They had a sweet playroom with a slide and afterwards there were cookies and juice. It was dope.

I’m getting off track. Maybe the best part about fall is that I know today, when it feels like 100 degrees in the shade, could be the last day of unrelenting, overpowering heat. I know, I am certain, I am absolutely super duper sure, that it’s going to cool off soon. Because I am ready to stop sweating.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *