According to a copy of Philadelphia magazine, which I purchased last week, there are only 92 days of Summer. That does not seem like nearly enough days. This last Winter was so brutal that 92 days, especially rainy days like today, barely seems like sufficient compensation. 92 days. That's it. I never quantified it before. But, all of a sudden, I think it's too little and it's going to fly by. Remember how when you were a kid and Summer dragged along, nice and slow, and it seemed like school was never going to start again? Remember those hot days when you'd stick to the fake leather in the car? And ice cream was the best thing ever after swimming? Of course, that was the Summer before lyme's disease, before not putting sun screen on a kid was child abuse, and when all you had to worry about was whether you could stay up late enough to try to catch lightening bugs in the yard before your parents made you go to bed.
I also have fond memories of going with my father to the last of the old fashioned soda fountains in Westchester when I was a kid. They made the best root beer floats ever. I still have quite a weakness for the root beet float.
Anyway, I am trying so hard to focus on the unlimited opportunities of 92 days, rather than how few days there really are.Posted by Random Penseur at June 6, 2004 11:11 AM