I hate summer. Does that make me unAmerican? Unfun? A curmudgeon?
I think I’d like summer a lot more if I was, you know, 11 years old and didn’t have to go to school. But I’m a 43 year-old who works full-time so summer is just another season to me, only a season with soul-sucking humidity, bugs, tourists, the laziness that seems to envelop everyone during the months of June, July, and August, the lack of television options. I don’t even like the items and events of summer: I’m not a beach guy, parades and fireworks have always bored the hell out of me, and bbq doesn’t excite me at all. So right from the start I’m not a summer guy. Then the temp gets pushed up to 88 degrees, the humidity is cranked to living-on-the-sun levels, and there is just no comfort to be found at all.
But here it is September 8, and the temps and humidity are still off the charts. I know, I know, summer doesn’t officially end for a couple more weeks, but summer has always ended on Labor Day for me. When Jerry Lewis cries about the amount of money he has collected, that’s the signal that the season is over. Bring on the jeans and sweatshirts. Bring on the back to school commercials. Bring on the Halloween candy and decorations in the stores. I’m ready for it. Instead, the past two days have been the most humid of the year. The sweat is pouring down my forehead and face like the glistening liquid on a cooking ham. I look as if I’m melting, like the Nazi guys at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark. The one with the glasses and black hat that tried to burn Karen Allen and laughed manically.
Oh, enough of the seasonal depression. Welcome Twits! Is that the right term for people on Twitter, Twits? Or is it Twitterers? Twitters? Tweeters? Thanks to everyone who has started to follow me on Twitter and found themselves here by following the link. (What’s the past tense of Twit anyway? Let’s not go there…). You’re actually here on an interesting day. Lately this blog has been updated only when I can squeeze it in between my day (and night) job at TV Squad, my work on the magazine Professor Barnhardt’s Journal, and the eating of pizza. Today is the first of the daily entries. That’s right, somehow I’m going to write a new long-ish entry every single night before I go to bed. Some nights are going to be more difficult than others, especially if I have a TV show to cover that’s on at 10pm (like tonight’s Mad Men), but I’m going to do it (I think this is going to ruin my plans to become a morning person instead of an evening person). So bookmark the page if you see stuff you like, poke around the various sections (if you have no idea who the hell I am check this page). Of course, I’ll probably start doing these daily entries and suddenly realize, OH MY GOD I HAVE NOTHING TO SAY.
These blog entries aren’t going to be polished, carefully edited essays. I’ll leave that to the editors at the jobs that pay me. As the Paul T. Anderson might say, There Will Be Errors. This is just stuff I’m writing at night before I go to bed, what I did during the day, what I’m working on, etc. Some of it might not be of interest to you (wow, that’s the way to sell it!). It’s as much for me as it is for you, but hopefully 95% of it will be interesting to at least 90% of you who read the site (I have no idea if those numbers even make any sense – math was never my best subject). These blog entries are usually short, so I’m boldly going where I haven’t gone before.
Speaking of: because a friend doesn’t want to be seen wearing them, I’ve become the owner of not one, not two, but three “Star Trek Online” T-shirts. I wore one to the supermarket the other day and got a thumbs up from a guy. “Cool shirt,” he said. At first I wasn’t sure what he was talking about, but he kept looking at my chest. “Excuse me?” “Cool shirt.” I thanked him, with probably a little more excitement than the situation called for. I am now very, very cool or very, very geeky (note: you can be both! Said the geek.).
Anyway, I think that’s good for the first of the daily entries. See you tomorrow. It’s supposed to be in the 60s by Wednesday.