I’m the kind of person who never gets bored. No matter how dull the day, I’ll find something to do. Been that way since I was a child.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not someone who’s always on the move. When my time’s up, I can go peacefully if I never run with the Pamplona bulls, climb Kilimanjaro or see Paul McCartney.
My conundrum is not finding things to do; it’s finding time in which to do them. I guess that’s why July is, to me, such an interesting month.
It’s not like a look forward to July. I hate the heat. July heat is what makes me such a fan of Willis Carrier and James Burrough.
But this is the month where time seems to slow down. This is due almost entirely to school being out of session. Back in the day, school lingered into the first week of June. By the latter part of August, it was time to go back.
But in July the calendar was clear.
In my neighborhood we would play baseball in a field behind the church, using the sanctuary’s outer brick wall as a backstop. There was even a chain link fence in the outfield, a little over 200 feet from home plate, and a driveway that cut through the field on a path that approximated the infield dirt of a real stadium. There would be at least seven or eight players per side. The games would begin before noon and not end until it was pitch black. We’d only break to go home for lunch and dinner.
By the time we were 12 or 13 years old we outgrew the field and the games, like the waning days of summer, began to fade.
Time never moves more slowly than it does on a Sunday afternoon in July. Instead of playing ball, I’d make sure to hang out by the pool all day, just as I try to do as an adult. That’s why I’m always nostalgic on the last Sunday of July. Because August, sweltering as it may be, is the season of change. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. But the clock begins to accelerate.
This year, for the first time in five years, the last Sunday in July falls on the last day of the month. It’s like squeezing every possible moment out of the slowest month of the year.
I’m looking forward to that. I hope you are, too.
Ed Atlas, Editor