As I’m writing this, I have a tall glass of lemonade in my hand, with the ice cubes clinking together every time I take a sip. Outside, the sky is electric blue with a few wispy clouds here and there.
In a moment, I’m going to go out and enjoy that sky. For now, though, I ask you to pour your own glass of lemonade and join me in a toast … to summer.
Here’s to minor league baseball. Here’s to microbrews at Civic Stadium, and a team (the Emeralds) that looks like the Yankees sometimes, and the Pawtucket MudSox the next inning. Here’s to the crack of the bat and Prince Puckler’s ice cream and the kid sitting next to you wearing a Giants hat, watching the game with all the innocence in the world.
Here’s to barbecues. Here’s to burnt burgers, three-foot racks of ribs and “special” sauces. Here’s to vodka-filled watermelons and getting drunk in less than two seconds because of all the sun you’ve been getting. Here’s to small, organized fiestas, with not a “party patrol” in sight.
Here’s to summer movies. A toast to plunking down a five-dollar bill in exchange for two hours of apes, lizards and aliens. Here’s to the “summer blockbuster,” and the fact that the movie-going public always manages to turn it on its ear. Here’s to “Shrek” beating out “Pearl Harbor,” and “Something About Mary” topping “Armageddon.”
Here’s to the outdoors. Here’s to teeming bike paths and rafts cluttering the Willamette. A toast to hiking, biking, running and swimming. Here’s to the Amazon Pool, which remains filled with children even in a torrential downpour.
Here’s to rain, our old friend, coming back every so often to remind us that we live in Eugene, not San Diego.
Here’s to fantastic holidays: Memorial Day, Independence Day and Labor Day. A toast to the American flag on every porch, and fireworks.
A quick toast is in order, to golf. Here’s to duffing, slicing, sanding and chunking. Here’s to that one shot, that 4-iron from 150 yards that sticks two feet from the pin, that makes you come back the next day.
Here’s to “The Simpsons” and “Friends” reruns on television. I’ll trade in one new episode for three old ones any day.
A toast to T-shirts and shorts, tank tops and skirts. Here’s to riding your bike to school every day, just like you did when you were a kid.
Here’s to summer school, which no longer sounds like “detention” to your ears. Here’s to four-week classes and midterms on the second Thursday of class.
Here’s to ice cream. I’d like to raise a glass of lemonade to the kid who drops his double-scoop, double-chocolate sugar-waffle cone all over himself. Hey kid, go inside and get another one. Why not?
Raise your glass to slip n’ slides, sand volleyball and the sounds of kids at the pool. Toast convertibles, sunglasses and sandals. Here’s to the sun going down at 9:30 every night.
Here’s to summer. May you never end.
Cheers!