The Myth and Magic of Summer

I can't help but feel a bit melancholy about today's date. 9/1. September 1. The first day of... fall?

Wait a minute. That's not true. Technically, summer isn't over until September 22-- a full three weeks away from now.

And yet, something about the instantaneous change from August to September puts me in the mindset that it's already fall. Or rather, that fall is on the way, even when it's still a hot and humid 85 degrees outside in New York City. Crazy, right? (Today is an exception. Oddly enough, it was chilly when I left my house for work this morning. Take 85, reverse those digits and that's what the actual air temperature was!)

If there's any scapegoat here, it's got to be that infamous back-to-school Staples commerical. You know, the one they've been playing on TV since 1999 featuring an overexcited dad, his two depressed kids, and the "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year" jingle? Retailers are all too eager to mistakenly tell us that autumn is already here, and that we better stock up on school supplies, clothes, bedding-- among other material things-- before it's too late. Thus, it becomes awful hard to savor the last days of the summer season. They slowly slip away.

However, things seem to be different this year, not just for myself, but for my fellow freshly-graduated peers from the Class of 2009. For the first time in about eighteen years, many of us are not returning to school-- "no more pencils, no more books" couldn't be any truer. As long as the warm weather holds up, it'll feel like we're still on summer vacation. Not too shabby.

In all honesty, summer should be far from over, especially given this year's circumstances. For most of the Northeast U.S., June 2009 proved to be a total washout. I can only recall a total of maybe five, six days when the sun decided to make a special guest appearance to the citizens of NYC. It was gloomy, dark, depressing. Let's hope this doesn't become a pattern in the years to come.

Growing up, I tried my best to cherish the summertime as a precious, well-deserved break from the neverending chaos and stresses that the academic world imposes upon its victims-- err, students. Childhood saw many fun days at home during the summer weeks with my siblings and cousins. Field trips to various NYC parks, museums, and the beach can be attributed mostly to my father, who took on the role of stay-at-home dad for several years ("Mr. Mom" he wasn't). As I delved deeper into my teenage years and entered my twenties, summers began to be taken up by job and internship commitments, which formed an awkward taste of adulthood in my mouth. And just two summers ago, I felt myself falling deeper and deeper into something that I thought I always understood, but realized I never truly did until then. Until two very different, yet very similar bodies in orbit aligned perfectly together, bringing sense and purpose to the universe. Yes, love-- I owe that to the summer, too.

While it's strange to not be back at Villanova and already planted at my usual desk in Falvey Library, I do enjoy this new and extended version of summer I'm currently experiencing. True, I have a job, so it isn't exactly a vacation-- a fact I'm constantly aware of as I sit at yet another desk under the glare of flourescent lights. But this September, I'm going to make the most of all that's left of summer. Without papers and exams to worry about, these last few weekends at the shore and in the city, spending time with the girl from two summers past-- for she is still my summer love, past and present-- will certainly taste even sweeter.