i never liked summer

This year in particular has been one of the worst summers I've ever dealt with, heat wise. Is it the worst ever? I'm honestly not sure, because I've experienced some brutal ones over the years.

What I did was think back to when I was a kid, wondering if summers then were any better decades ago. Surely, they must have been.

Nope.

The #1 thing my kid self liked about summer was not having to go to school. Does that mean I went outside all the time? No. My family had a pool, and yeah, that was nice, but I didn't swim in it every day. Also, it was always better to go swimming at dusk or night, which made nasty hot summer evenings much better. I'll talk more about that in a minute.

While I did get outside a lot as a kid, I wasn't out there all that much in the day during summer aside from the pool stuff. Too hot to ride my bike. Too hot to go tromping through the woods. Too hot to do damned near anything.

So what did I do to pass the time? If it was just a typical summer day at the house, I stayed inside, played video games, and watched gobs and gobs of television. For games, it was either Atari 2600 or the Commodore 64, then later Nintendo when that came out. I would play the same games over and over again until I got bored with them. After that, watch TV. Usually PBS, because we didn't have cable, mom insisted on nothing but educational programming during the day, and we lived in an area where the cool UHF channels that had the awesome cartoons were barely in range. Oh, believe me, I tried to watch those cool cartoons and did everything I could think of to make those UHF stations come in better, but no such luck. The best I could get was a semi-snowy picture for that one station that broadcast Transformers. I watched what I could until the picture would fuzz out too much to figure out what was going on.

You'd think that growing up in the northeast would mean summers that were easier to deal with. No. Wrong. Very wrong. The only advantage to a northeast summer compared to other parts of the United States is that it's shorter, and not by all that much.

Also, that very old, very tired saying of "it's not the heat, it's the humidity" actually isn't bullshit. Northeast summer nights means two things. Hot, sticky air and mosquitoes. Tons and tons of mosquitoes.

Dad at one point had installed a large bug zapper. He decided to install it on a tree in the front yard and hang it off a large branch, which in all honesty was the best place he could have put it. Big ol' tall thing with two tubes that glowed purple, which to me looked magical.

That bug zapper was run every summer night for years, and was actually a source of entertainment. On a summer night, yeah, the air was still hot and sticky, but you could actually go sit outside since all those damned mosquitoes would go straight for the zapper instead of us. Watching the zapper was entertaining. Every time a bug hit it, said bug met its doom. A little spark of light with a *bzzt!*, dead. Every few seconds, here a little bzzt!, there a little bzzt! It was all a bit therapeutic in a way.

The most entertaining thing about the zapper was something that happened a few times a week when a moth would hit it.

In the way the zapper was made from the factory, it had metal fencing on all four sides, which serves three main purposes. First, to actually hold the thing together. Second, to prevent animals like birds and squirrels getting in there. Third, to prevent larger bugs from hitting it.

But even with that fencing there, a smaller moth would sometimes wriggle its way through it, hit the tube and bzzZzZzZzZZZZzzZZzzzz along with sparking/arcing and so on. Looked like one of those fourth-of-July sparkler things sorta/kinda. That dumbass moth would ride the lightning for so long that it literally started smoking until it finally fell to the tray below. I'd hear the sound from inside the house and go out the front door to actually watch this. If dad was nearby, he'd come out to watch it also. After that bug finally fell, yep, dumbass moth is dead, show's over, time to go back in the house.

I do remember a few hell-hot northeast summers from my teens. One that sticks out in particular is when I left a tape of ZZ Top's Eliminator on the dashboard of my first car - which by the way did not have air conditioning. Got home the previous night, parked, I had been flipping in/out tapes in my car stereo, put the ZZ Top tape on the dashboard and didn't think about it. The next day I go to the car at some time in the afternoon, and that tape got cooked so bad that the plastic warped. Totally ruined. Bummed me out, because I liked that tape, but oh well, lesson learned.

Another thing I remember is seeing radiating heat coming from the pavement while driving around. Specifically, when driving slow in parking lots, and when stopped at stop signs or traffic lights. I always got uneasy feelings whenever seeing that, as in, "This can't be good for my car... or me." I still get those feelings whenever I see that radiating heat.

And I remember that if a quick rainstorm passed through on a hell-hot day, that water would be literally steaming off the asphalt. Again, I'm still talking about in the northeast here.

The only true difference I've experienced when comparing northern vs. southern US summers is the length. In the northeast, hell-hot garbage was usually gone by early to mid September. Again, usually, but not always. In the south, add a few weeks. October is usually when the hell-hot crap stops.

In addition, for whatever temperature is considered comfortable in the north, add 10 degrees for the south. 72F to 75F is the just-right outdoor temperature for the northeast. 82F to 85F is just-right for where I've lived in the south. For example, 72F pretty much anywhere in New England is great, but that same temperature legitimately feels cold in Florida. And yes, that means 82F feels perfect in FL but crappy in New England.

And speaking of perfect when it comes to weather, New England gets only six weeks of that, or maybe eight if they're lucky. It's either mid-September and all of October, or for better years, mid-September to mid-November. In Texas, twice a year the weather is great. October to mid-December, then March to mid-May. Florida has the lion's share of fantastic weather. December all the way through to May. Six straight months. Hurricane season ends around mid-September, but the hot shit still takes a bit to shake off. After Christmas and all the way to Cinco de Mayo (more or less), glorious.

Speaking on Texas a little more, yeah those two perfect-weather periods depends what part you're in because it is a huge state. Corpus Christi for example is very Florida-like because it's aligned almost exactly on the same latitude with Tampa Bay Florida. But generally speaking, anywhere in the "Texas Triangle" (Dallas-Ft Worth, Austin, San Antonio, Houston) has October to mid-December and March to mid-May as the best weather times. You get six to seven months of great weather in TX, but it's split.

And speaking on Florida a little more, does that mean mid-May to December weather sucks? Yes and no. Yes, in that for summer in particular, in Tampa Bay there's that thing where a torrential half-hour rainstorm happens almost every day, typically with lightning and a lot of it. And if there's any threat of hurricane, it will most likely happen during that time. But at least with that daily storm crap you can literally see it coming while driving on the highway. If up ahead you see a gray blur, that's a wall of rain. Slow down a lot and just power through it, or find a bridge and park underneath until it passes by (which motorcyclists and convertible owners do routinely).

When I do become a millionaire, because, y'know, I have goals, would I hop around the country only staying in places where the weather is perfect? No, because that means I'd have to own or rent multiple properties, and possibly have to manage multiple cars with multiple registrations for insurance, tags and whatnot. I don't want to juggle that mess.

It's better to know now that I never liked summer. Didn't like it when I was a kid, and have never truly enjoyed it at any time in my adult life. It's hot, it sucks, and I'm always glad when it's over. Do I hate summer? No. But I do hold some hatred for winter, and I'd be lying if I said otherwise. Not a lot. Just some.

Regardless of where I am, summer is very unlikely ever to be a thing where I think, "Oh, joy! It's summer!" That's not happening. And hopping around the country would be a fool's errand trying to escape summer heat, because it sucks everywhere.

As a kid, I spent most of the summer inside. As an adult, same, but I can go out more since I can drive at night (driving with the windows rolled down and feeling only wind with no A/C running is nice).

There are a few memories I have of actually having fun, as in real fun, during summer as a kid in the northeast. Many of them revolve around amusement parks. One of them was Rocky Point. Others were Aquaboggan in Maine and Water Country in New Hampshire (both of which are still running today). I even did Riverside back in the day, which is now Six Flags New England. Aside from that, dad took me to see races at Thompson Speedway and the fireworks shows local towns would put on for the Fourth of July. So yes, I did have some actual good summer times in the past.

These days, being my middle aged self knows all too well that summer heat sucks no matter where I am, I plan for it.

If Thing is an event I can drive to and enjoy without too much hassle at night, okay, good. If Thing is something I drive to during the day, can I park the car in shade or in a parking garage? If yes, okay, good. If no, I make sure to have my sunshade ready.

I even plan for sucky summer heat for normal errand running. Attention is given to whether I can do Thing during day or night, the routes I'm going to take, what traffic I may encounter, whether where I'm going has parking OUT of the sun or not, and so on.

For parking specifically, if Thing is something that for whatever reason is done during a hell-hot summer afternoon, I will purposely park in shade even if that means an extra minute or two of walking is required across the parking lot to get to the building. It is absolutely and totally worth it to sweat a little on that walk so I don't have to deal with that stupid shade. Yeah, I'm glad to have the shade, but if I can avoid using it, I will, every time.

I've lived in enough places to understand there is nowhere in the United States that has 100% perfect weather year round. But I have learned to pay attention to sunrise and sunset times.

In order, this is how light works over the course of a day:

Night, Astrological Twilight, Nautical Twilight, Civil Twilight, Daylight, Civil Twilight, Nautical Twilight, Astrological Twilight, back to Night.

Civil Twilight is by far the best time of the day during summer. It is the time of the day where daylight is visible but the sun cannot be seen. In other words, it's visible daylight before sunrise, and visible daylight after sunset. Not exactly dawn and dusk, but very close to it.

Both of these periods are about a half-hour each. Even on the nastiest hottest summer days, the weather usually feels pretty nice during those times. It is especially good when driving on a Sunday. And if near the ocean, the beginning or tail end (depending on time of day) of nautical twilight is visible to add in another 15 minutes or so.

These are times of the day when not only does summer weather feel nice (usually), but there is also the least eye strain just looking around at things outside.

Pity that these times of the day are so short, but hey, it is something to look forward to every day, so there's that.

The sunrise/sunset stuff was important to recognize because I can enjoy it anywhere during summer no matter where I am. No need to take a big vacation or anything like that. Just pick where you are, set an alarm on your watch or phone for when civil twilight begins and enjoy the half-hour when it comes.

I know I do.

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