Summer Lovin'

Had me a blast...

I seem to have forgotten that this substack wasn’t just supposed to be about memories of my childhood. A nonstop nostalgia-palooza, but also about this midsection of life.  Next week, a writer’s group I belong to, The Story Society of Iowa, (follow us on all the socials, we are a good time!) is doing an “End of Summer Blast” virtual event and that got me thinking about all things Summer. In honor of that, and the winding down of summer, may I present to you a list of summer things and if they were better as a kid or an adult.

Still the song of Summer.

 Sleeping in.

Remember when you could get unfrosted Pop-Tarts?? What was even the point?

Starting off strong with a no brainer. As a kid, I was up and out the door to find my friends and start our adventures with a pop tart in hand as early as possible.  Joyfully awake by eight AM. As a teen, rising before 10:30 was a rarity. And adult me? I don’t think I’ve slept past seven AM since I was twenty-seven. That sun comes up and so do I!  I’m practically a rooster over here. What I wouldn’t give for that delightful deep, worry-free sleep of a teenager-I doubt she ever had to get up to pee.

Winner: Obviously the teen years.

Temperature.

As a middle-aged woman, I am almost always the temperature of the sun.  Drying my hair requires deodorant.  My air is set below seventy, and I don’t want to hear a word about how cold you are. Go home to your own terrarium or bring a sweater.  As a child, I don’t remember the heat bothering me at all, and I imagine if it did I would have just run through the sprinkler and gone on about my business. As a teen, my only issues with the summer heat was the worry that the humidity would make my hair go flat. Thank the lord above for good hairspray.

You had to use vinegar to get it out, but this shit held.

Winner: Childhood

Outdoor activities.

As a child this entailed endless hours riding my bike, playing in the creek near my house or on a homemade slip and slide. Swimming at the pool during the day-real swimming-with goggles, underwater summersaults and handstands. Popsicles from the lifeguard.  Flashlight tag at night with all my friends until someone got scared.  Teenage me spent every day at the pool, but rarely in it. Slicked up with Hawaiian Tropic, wearing my Ocean Pacific bathing suit and reading Seventeen magazine while I drank a coke and watched the boys jump off the diving board.  As an adult, I sometimes get myself to a pool, but the Hawaiian Tropic has been replaced by SPF 50. My favorite summer activity nowadays involves sitting on my screened in porch having a cocktail blasting eighties music louder than the dogs next door bark.

Choosing an 80s bathing suit was almost as labor intensive as finding the right prom dress.

All in all, I’d say this one is a tie. 

Vacations:

Childhood, I just got in the car. No planning, not a care in the world except if I’d get to buy a souvenir. Teenager-these ruined my life because I was sure I’d miss out on the most important events of the summer while I was gone. (Note to self, there is no evidence this ever happened.) Adult-I get to go where I want, mostly when I want. But I have to do all of the planning—travel, accommodations, reservations, sites to see. I still want a souvenir.

I think I’ll give this one to adult me. Mostly because I jive on making a good plan.

Time:

Time stood still in the summer as a child The days were endless. Someone just said that summer break is only six weeks long. Eight-year-old me would never have believed such a thing. Same with teenage me. Those summer nights were all sorts of magical-cruising with the radio on, baseball games. Sleepovers with friends. Adult-there is no faster season than summer.  Literally the 4^th of July hits and a blink later it is Fall.   Which honestly, doesn’t suck when you’re hot all the time.

I think the winner here is teenhood. (Yes, this is a word I just made up. Yes, you are welcome to use it.)

Ice cream:

The treat of the summer. At any age. As a child, I could eat a sundae as big as my head and not have a stomachache. As a teen, I used going for ice cream as an excuse to see if anyone was out and about.   The ice cream was just a bonus. Shall I say, a cherry on top?

Happy Joe’s sundaes. IYKYK.

Adult me just wins this one, because I don’t have to ask anyone to take me for ice cream, and I can have whatever I want, if I’m willing for my stomach to hurt.

 And fellow Muser, I am willing to take that chance.

Happy Summer, Musers!