Christmas in June
Terry L. Mitchell
June 11, 2009
In my neck of the woods, as well as in many other communities across America, school will soon be out for the summer. The early part of June always brings back fond memories from my childhood and teenage years. From my final days in the sixth grade to the winding down of my junior year in high school, this was my favorite time of the year. The thrill of Christmas and birthdays had long since subsided and given way in intensity to the anticipation of a lazy, carefree summer.
I could barely wait for those days that my brothers and I spent mainly in the backyards of my neighborhood and the playground down the street playing endless games of pickup softball and two-on-two basketball. We also liked to play a game called "wiffle ball", which was played kind of like softball, except with a plastic ball and bat. And we didnīt mind sweating it out in the hot sun. Besides, there were plenty of shade trees to cool off under between games.
I also looked forward to sleeping late in the mornings in front of a window fan in the living room on a quilt my mother would spread out in the floor. We didnīt have any air conditioning or other fans in the house (other than the one in my parentsī bedroom), so that was the most comfortable sleeping arrangement for my brothers and me during those hot summer nights in Virginia. For some reason, it was just a lot more fun than sleeping in bed.
When I wasnīt outdoors or sleeping, I could always find plenty of good stuff to watch on TV. This was in spite of the fact that we only had three channels back then and I could therefore only watch baseball games on Saturday afternoons and Monday nights. Being the big baseball fan that I was, Iīm sure that cable or satellite TV would have been pure ecstasy for me. But, as it was, I was still able to entertain myself just fine with all those daytime game shows and off-network reruns such as "Batman", "Wild, Wild West", and the like.
Many summers have come and gone since, but Iīll never forget those wonderful days. As an adult, I havenīt been able to replicate such anticipation for summer. Thatīs probably because, other than a week or two of vacation, itīs really no different from the rest of the year. I guess thatīs just one of the sad facts of adulthood, when just about the only thing one has to eagerly look forward to is retirement.
I could barely wait for those days that my brothers and I spent mainly in the backyards of my neighborhood and the playground down the street playing endless games of pickup softball and two-on-two basketball. We also liked to play a game called "wiffle ball", which was played kind of like softball, except with a plastic ball and bat. And we didnīt mind sweating it out in the hot sun. Besides, there were plenty of shade trees to cool off under between games.
I also looked forward to sleeping late in the mornings in front of a window fan in the living room on a quilt my mother would spread out in the floor. We didnīt have any air conditioning or other fans in the house (other than the one in my parentsī bedroom), so that was the most comfortable sleeping arrangement for my brothers and me during those hot summer nights in Virginia. For some reason, it was just a lot more fun than sleeping in bed.
When I wasnīt outdoors or sleeping, I could always find plenty of good stuff to watch on TV. This was in spite of the fact that we only had three channels back then and I could therefore only watch baseball games on Saturday afternoons and Monday nights. Being the big baseball fan that I was, Iīm sure that cable or satellite TV would have been pure ecstasy for me. But, as it was, I was still able to entertain myself just fine with all those daytime game shows and off-network reruns such as "Batman", "Wild, Wild West", and the like.
Many summers have come and gone since, but Iīll never forget those wonderful days. As an adult, I havenīt been able to replicate such anticipation for summer. Thatīs probably because, other than a week or two of vacation, itīs really no different from the rest of the year. I guess thatīs just one of the sad facts of adulthood, when just about the only thing one has to eagerly look forward to is retirement.
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