Because the spring beats its rhythm in the head of the school kids anxious for the arrival of Summer break,
because teachers are either counting the days or trying to hold them back, having way too much shit to do and not nearly enough time to do it,
because there’s the promise of music blaring from the stereo inside so that it can be felt outside in the yard while the kids play frisbee,
because we can bring beach chairs to the zoo for outdoor concerts and fireworks displays that sound like warfare even though we’ve been trained not to think of it that way,
because the bbq comes out of its detention in the garage and will live on the front porch for the next five months where it will be fired up every other day,
because the mowers will be out polluting the neighborhood with their beautiful ugliness, the smell of gasoline mixed with cut grass in the air like a rose,
because the trailers will be hitched and pulled to their idyllic destinations on the coast or in the woods where the campfires burn and campers sip bourbon from plastic cups,
because all camp is in session, horse camp, trackers camp, sports camp, band camp and camp of all camp for you, Mr. Jarmer: writers camp,
because the bugs will be out in force having skated through a stupidly mild winter completely unscathed and ready to rock and roll,
because we welcome the heat even while it frightens us and kills our grass and burns our skin,
because we can see the stars, we say welcome summer, come summer, bring it on, baby.
michael jarmer 