Growing up as a kid in West Seattle summer was the best of times. Camp Coleman was the exclusive summer camp of the Fauntleroy YMCA. (Today along with Camp Orkila it is available to all Y’s n the Puget Sound area.) We felt like it was our own, private, summer sanctuary and Orkila was a rival, though I don’t why. Kid’s stuff, I guess. Camp was the highlight of July along with extended backpacks in the Olympics and Cascades, and water skiing in Fauntleroy cove.
But it was all like opening bands before the headliner. That was on the first weekend of August when the Seafair Race was held. Of course, in the 50’s and 60’s it meant the battle of Detroit and Seattle for the Gold Cup. Those thunderous hydroplanes powered by WW II fighter plane engines were sound-candy to young boys’ ears. Qualifying was held the full week before and each attempt was televised. Those boats, drivers, and owners were our heroes. The boats’ names and colors were magic: The Slo Mo Shuns IV & V; Miss Thriftway; Hawaii Kai; Miss Bardahl (The Green Dragon); the Miss Wahoo; and many more including those evil doers from the east who would invade trying to steal the Gold Cup: The Gales IV, V, and VI, The Miss U.S., Such Crust III, The (ugly) Miss Pepsi; among others. The drivers, most dead now either by natural causes and far too many at the wheels of their respective hydros completed the hero worship.
At the end of Sunday’s race with hundreds of thousands of like minded, sun burned Seattleites walking to their cars or the busses it was like the end of Christmas day after the presents were opened and dinner was done. Great memories but kind of a letdown. There was the exciting build up full of anticipation and then it was over. It felt like real summer was gone and we had to face the reality of getting ready for school even though we still had a month.
I think it still works that way. The Seafair race may be the highlight for some; certainly not as many as there used to be. Now the summer-gone feeling may be the first commercial for back-to-school sales, the final family vacation, the Evergreen State Fair, Taste of Edmonds, or a myriad of other community celebrations. Whatever it is most people take a deep breath and sigh, “Where did the summer go?”
Actually summer is not over until September 21 even though it feels like it feels like the middle of fall.
All that to write this: We are constantly in hurry-up mode. We must prepare for tomorrow. Parents want their kids to “play up” with older, more experienced players, big stores have their Christmas product conventions in the summer, New year car models are out in early fall – of the previous year, we try to organize our next program months before it would be unveiled.
Last June my son and I planned on a backpack and a long bike ride this summer. Neither happened. And as he was preparing to leave for studies and an internship in London he said, “Well we never got to what we said we were going to do.” I responded, “Well. Maybe someday.” Just like last year and the year before.
When does someday come? Today is yesterday’s tomorrow. It was “someday” once a while ago. We are conditioned to speed through life. We seem rarely think about today unless some culminating event occurs. Is this good? Or should we take each day as it comes and make the most of it?
Maybe I will figure that out . . . someday.
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