...and the living is easy

Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this son of York;
And all the clouds that low'r'd upon our house
In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.

Ah, summer. Shakespeare understood the psychological value of summer. To his readers it meant warmth and light and freedom. To Richard the third it meant the pall of the previous king was lifted and his family (namely, his brother) restored to greatness.

For me, Autumn is the best season and stripper name. But Summer is nice. I think, given that the vast majority of my DNA comes ancestors who lived in places where the sun was absent for long cold miserable stretches of time, that I have a predisposition to not be in love with high heat and humidity. But I do enjoy gentle warmth and sunlight.

Given that, there are things about the summer that are just so, well, summery, that they elicit memories of just pure joy. Take a drive-in movie for example (any one under the age of 25 need not apply; these cinematic dinosaurs are now likely condominimums): A tinny speaker attached to your car window or, alternatively, your am radio tuned to some obscure and unused radio station. Mosquitoes and beer, and mutually accepted pubescent experimental fondling. 80 people in a car trying to cross the border that had no political implications. really, a completely crappy cinematic experience and one that I want to re-create. I saw Star Wars at the drive in. On a gigantic screen. I remember hoping as a kid that the late movie would have boobies. Youngsters will say "what's so special about that? We live in an age where movies can be downloaded from Pirate Bay at will and boobies have their own informercials. You seem quaint." Go F- urself.

But seriously, drive-ins scream summer. So does baseball. The whites of the Red Sox home unis and the green of the infield grass never look whiter or greener than in the light of the July sun. And cotton candy. Try it in January, you'll feel stupid and sticky, like an illiterate hooker. Fireworks in march seem juvenile; who wants to lose a finger in spring? A few other things that scream summer:

• Corn chowder
• Hot dogs
• Fried Dough
• Roller Coasters
• Concerts 
• Jimmy Buffet (have you ever listened to his Christmas Album? me either)

I like the passge from summer into autumn, from intensity to mildness, from solstice to equinox: a constant reminder that all things, good and bad, must pass. Autumn is soon upon us, along with football and apple cider and the smell of fallen leaves. Life is good. But summer is a lovely season, and a perfectly serviceable stripper name.