I’m not sure if you’ve heard, but apparently there’s a recession going on. They’re playing it kind of coy in the media, but if you know what to listen for you’ll hear about it (let it be known that my tongue is so far in cheek at this point that it’s almost like that scene from Alien except with my mouth instead of some dude’s belly). I guess they’re making a bunch of budget cuts in Washington state (where Wes and I currently live) and it’s hitting the public education system among other things.
I guess one of those unfortunate other things getting the axe is summer, because I’m looking out my window on the grayest, nastiest, rainiest mid-May day I’ve ever seen. I have no idea how much money this state’s government is saving by giving summer the boot but it had better be a small fortune because dude. I don’t think I’m gonna make it to next Christmas unless I either have a really nice summer or a whole bunch of free vodka every month.
Let me paint you a picture. It’s May 19th, and our heroine is driving home from work. It’s raining, she’s got her wipers on intermittently, and she fully intends to make it home safely.
About ten minutes away from home, the heavens open up and it’s like some lazy movie-set extra just turned on a fire hose instead of the rain machine. Water starts sheeting down our heroine’s windshield while she’s embroiled in a mid-week commute on a normally very brisk highway. Traffic slows to half its normal speed and even that feels too fast as our heroine’s cheap, Korean-made car hydroplanes and struggles to stay in one lane.
Our heroine, intrepid as always, turns the windshield wipers to the fastest setting and pays very close attention to the road. Confident in her inclement weather driving skills, she feel calm and skilled. Until the rain starts coming down harder.
The windshield wipers already wiping at capacity but still essentially worthless, cars around her start veering into other lanes and traffic slows even further. Hands clenched firmly on the wheel, our heroine does what any sane person would do in this situation: she cranks up the radio (which just happens to be playing one of Avril Lavigne’s songs), screams out the words to some sugary pop song, and hopes she makes it out of this alive even though she can’t even see the road anymore.
After what feels like an eternity of driving in this weather (but is really probably about two minutes) the storm passes and our heroine immediately picks up her phone and tells her father all about it, because apparently she likes worrying him to pieces. Inclement weather can be fun, but only if you like wondering whether your car will sink before it makes it to the other end of that gigantic puddle.
As you can see, life without summer, much like a life on drugs, is a life wasted. All that worry about whether or not some car would sideswipe her preoccupied our heroine when she could have been coming up with her next brilliant idea with which to wow people.
Obviously this state cannot afford to have its citizens distracted by crappy weather, so listen up Washington state law makers: Cancel something else, but leave summer alone. We need it. We may never solve cancer unless you leave our summer alone. Many thanks in advance.