summer’s coming.
everyone bemoans the southern summer. it’s so hot that the pavement shimmers, and the sweat starts trickling down your back as soon as you set foot outside your house. i for one, welcome it with open arms, especially since my recent northern summers have left much to be desired.
REASONS REBEL SUMMERS TRUMP YANKEE ONES:
1. yes, the sun below the mason dixon is a scorcher (to the point that the elderly are advised to stay indoors), but i’ll take that any day over the slow burn of the philly sun, warming you until there’s a sheen on your skin, then settling the filth of the city on top of it. i felt so dirty biking around the city—every day, i could feel the bus exhaust and belching gas from the sewers sticking to and staying with me. i felt like i needed to shower 3 times daily (i never did, but i can hardly be blamed for that).
2. it is unheard of to go without air conditioning in the south. sure, you’ll walk into an establishment panting like a dog, pushing your sopping mop of hair away from your face, but you’ll be greeted with an arctic freon blast as soon as you open the door. those lazy yankee ceiling fans did little more than circulate the sweaty air, leaving me to chew on it and fan myself with my menu/brochure/paperback book. get bent, ceiling fans.
3. recreational water sources down south are vastly superior. there are public pools in the north, but they essentially blow. there was one less than a block from my house, and i didn’t go a single time. the hours are ridiculous and arbitrary, you often have to pay admission fees or have a membership, and they are constantly brimming exclusively with children and pre-teens. i am no shrinking violet, but it is particularly daunting to be the sole adult in a pool full of individuals relishing the cruelest era of their lives donning a bathing suit. angelina jolie would have esteem issues at the public pool.
you could travel north to the jersey shore, but if you’ve ever SEEN ‘the jersey shore’ you can understand why that would be unappealing. packed with tourists and meat heads and boasting more substantial entrance fees, it’s rarely worth the trip.
i can name you at least four apartment complexes in this southern city that have pools on their premises and, while they are not public per se, the security is lax if not nonexistent. they have low fences and lenient tenants, and i have them to thank for more than one moonlit dip. then there’s the river. grab some friends. buy some cheap inner tubes. strap em together and stick a cooler of beer in the middle. entire afternoons have been whiled away with hot shoulders and a cool butt, drifting aimlessly with my friends.
4. southern scenery maximizes seasonal beauty. there are more trees here. there are more stars. there are crickets and fireflies and heat-lightning storms cracking open the sky. the south unfurls, and the foliage is lush and undulating. i have countless southern memories of driving with my window down at dusk, fingers trailing in the breeze, sweet jasmine filling the air. i don’t have a single northern memory like that. not one. the city boasts nothing but endless hot cement. the lights dim the stars, and the buildings block the sky. the city is the city is the city, year-round.
i could go on like this for pages. i could write about porches and music, about pickup trucks and the molasses pace of things. maybe some other time. instead, i’ll close by saying this:
i am anxiously awaiting summer, heat and all. and i am happy to be home, wrapped in the south, to bask in it.
1 year ago • Notes