summergirls

New Kids on the Block had a bunch of hits

Chinese food makes me sick

But I think it's fly when girls stop by for the summer

For the summer

I like girls that wear Abercrombie & Fitch

I'd take her if I had one wish

But she's been gone since that summer

Since that summer

(LFO)

This is me.  Yep.  Been gone since that summer.  I show up for awhile and then, just when you think...

But I love summer.  Last night we got a call inviting us to a bonfire on Deer Lake with a bunch of actors from Festival Theatre.

Nothing says summer better than passing beers around a fire, skinnydipping in a 75-degree lake, eating leftover potato chips on a beach house roof and watching the stars.  You can see the whole Milky Way out here.  I can't think of one single thing that is more summer than last night.  It reminded me of Chris Lund.  It reminded me of Amsterdam and Joe Lavicka's house and Dan's backyard and unfiltered cigarettes.

Summer is sharing cigarettes and leaving beers in your friends' refrigerators -- or mainly, our friends leaving beers in our fridge.  Or mainly, Russell leaving beers in our fridge and wedging butts between the cracks of our front steps.

There is a part of a day that reeks of summer, the cool damp that sets in with dusk and lingers after dawn, when you wake up smelling the lush outside and shivering a little in your long T-shirt -- knowing that by noon it will have melted off and you'll be squinting into some mirage ahead.  The cool damp that descends immediately upon clean laundry left too long on the clothesline.

Summer is talking about the weather.  Making bets with your coworkers about exactly what time the storm will set in, and whether it will affect business.  Speculating about whether vast numbers of cell phone towers springing up across the country is the cause of rampant tornadoes these days.  Wishing city-dwelling strangers clear skies for their vacations in North Country and drying your jeans over the air conditioner once you've ridden your bike to work after a rainstorm.

Riding your bike to the grocery store, stocking up on sale sharp cheddar, waiting for Marketplace to restock plain Greek yogurt, and cramming outrageous loads into a backpack to pedal back home screaming Will Smith songs at the top of your lungs and STILL being silenced by the forest and the wind and the asphalt.

And note the "SPEED LIMIT <35 mph" sign when you're on the final stretch.  <3 summer