See You in September

I’m a dork, and I always find myself singing this song for when September rolls around. I’ve always liked the song for its melodrama (don’t get me started on melodramatic songs, by the way—a pony named Wildfire, anyone?), and for the fact that it was probably my first exposure to the idea of people actually going away for the whole summer.

Imagine a time when it was common to spend the summer at a resort, a la Dirty Dancing. (Imagine a time when it wouldn’t have been at all weird to hear a man say, “Baby’s starting Mt. Holyoke in the fall,” now that I think about it.) Imagine having a whole summer life, separate from your regular life of home, work and school. Imagine an entire summer filled with sunshine and fishing and sand in your bathing suit. Adirondack chairs and floppy hats and iced tea by the shore. Baskets of books from the tiny library a bike’s ride away. Rainy days filled with reading on a rocker. No schedules or clocks.

I know there would still be cooking and cleaning and laundry. I know there would still be bills to pay. I know my sister and mother would still drive me nuts, and that Teddy’s dad would still be a selfish schmuck, and that people in general might often still be rude and disappointing and drive poorly, but . . . just imagine!