Wake
Up
Summer What?
By: Quill Wordsmith
wordsmith@excapethematrix.com
So what exactly was my favorite summer? Let’s see….it was probably the one when I realized swallowing pool water and blowing bubbles out of my nose wasn’t exactly a successful way of “breathing” underwater. What exactly was I inhaling and exhaling? Or the one when we all took that beautiful bus ride up to Catskills, NY. It was a beautiful little get up. Nothing fancy, in the midst of mountains and trees, I met new friends, developed new crushes and it was my first time getting stung by anything. Wow. I still have the mark that says “Catskills stung here”. Hmm…. I wonder. If it wasn’t either of those two – then my favorite summer was definitely the one when I found myself in my rural bedroom writing in my journal to the feel of absolutely no breeze - - and my glasses started to fog up midway through the page. My glasses started to fog up midway through the page and my patience with summer grew ever - - more - - thin.
Perhaps my favorite summer . . . or most memorable summer was when I found the perfect way to get at my self-proclaimed enemy. He really had done nothing to me but his aura irritated me. So as he approached my little brother (someone who, apparently, only I was allowed to pick fights with) and offered him a “wedgie”, that was my open door to make my move and my blue Chuck Taylors French kissed the back of his skull until someone pulled me off. That’s definitely not the person I am today – I can’t even walk 5 blocks without somebody’s Chuck Taylors making my feet either hurt or sweat uncontrollably. But that was definitely a summer to remember. Those summers where frozen cups outdid ice cream trucks and bike riding literally hawk spat on the concept of gaming consoles. Oh yes. This was truly the best summer ever – I guess. Staying outside until the sun went down and kids and mosquitoes alike – hung around the porch light until dirt and red bumps caked our youthful complexions.
“kids and mosquitoes alike – hung around the porch light until dirt and red bumps caked our youthful complexions.”
My favorite summer was the one when I caught a fever. The temperature outside was drinking down 95 degrees easy - - and my behind was basically sunbathing in how warm and good and comfortable that sun was washing over me. Because my Lord, was I cold. Freezing in fact. And the summer sun felt like God was holding me. That summer. I knew I was alright until someone told me that it was a fever. Then I felt even better because I was headed home - - pay didn’t mean anything to me at that part time job. But a day home from work was like heaven giving me some dap on the black hand side. Then the memorable summer a few years ago when the cicadas came out to have sex. That’s when I developed a great appreciation for East Baltimore and it’s industrial landscape. My job was over west and every time the subway emerged from underground, those cicadas in their whistling language, would kamikaze their way into the window – looking for a mate. Wasn’t none of that in Cedonia.
2007 was quite memorable though. Be Free Fridays had me as a feature. Girls who’s stories I only told to others, ended up appearing before me in manifest. Kings Dominion with my partner, partner-in-crime and guilty by association person was quite the party of four. We were roller coaster hogs that day. Wandering eyes at amusement parks is something that simply comes with the admission. And then there was Artscape. But I’m sure you can go back to the Free Your Mind issue from last year to catch the recap on that.
I hate the summer.
So almost all of them are memorable.
I’m looking forward to God blessing me with a blizzard for my 26th birthday though. . .
And He Writes…
Quillium Wordsmith