Summer Rites

What makes you feel like it’s summer? Hot, humid days? Watching fireflies show off, blinking in a sexy code to lure a mate, at dusk.  Ice cream is in season with fancy flavors like key lime pie. And juicy deep red delicious beefsteak tomatoes replace their pinkish pale tasteless cousins at the supermarket. 

      For me, it's the Fourth of July along with fireworks and parades that signal summertime. (Musical interlude: Summertime and the living is easy.) 

    Although it’s unfair to generalize all small towns, I can count on any small town across America to showcase its community spirit with a good old-fashioned Independence Day parade.  

    Let me set the scene. Morning clouds part and the sun beats down cutting through the dense air an hour before the parade. Small flags stand at attention along the parade route. Townspeople and out-of-towners alike arrive lugging lawn chairs and stake out a seat on the sidewalk along the parade route. 

Heading the parade is the town’s mayor. This official welcomes with a wave and a smile from a convertible, vintage vehicle, or borrowed car from his friend at the dealership.

·             Shriners spin miniature cars in circles; cars that bang, sputter and spew black smoke. These men, wearing a red fez with the black tassel, imagine they are 10 years old again. 

·             Sirens blare from the firetrucks commanding everyone’s attention. But today, the firefighters slow their roll to show off their shiny red machines. 

·             Floats with children singing, dancing, or crying all at the same time, get cheers from the crowd. Why?  The kids and adults are cheering for candy to land at their feet. In recent times, the candy is safely pressed into hands, rather than thrown from a moving vehicle.

·             All the real estate agents, more than the town’s current population, pop up through the parade. At least they have a snazzy car to admire.

·             A human and their pet (dog or cat) wearing matching Uncle Sam costumes (walk or ride). Yes, it’s true. In fact, I watched a woman teeter on her bike with a basket carrying an embarrassed cat with a goofy hat. (Don't worry, felines always get their revenge!) 

·                My favorite part comes next: A marching band playing a toe-tapping medley of American songs. The musicians play even as sweat streams into their eyes, the heavy uniform feels like armor, and the sheet music blows in the wind, they play on. 

            Automatically, I begin clapping and cheering for this band. I can count on a swell of emotion. A tear trickles from my eye. A large lump sits in my throat. I feel lighter from my daily worries. That's my summer rite of passage when happiness mixes with nostalgia.