Boston Common - Niche Media - A side of Boston that's anything but common.
Issue link: http://www.ifoldsflip.com/i/526269
illustration by daniel o'leary Remember the day school finally let out for summer? No, really remember it. Remember how the bell screamed, and how you hap- hazardly stuffed your schoolbag and sprinted for the exit as if the place were on fire. You burst through those dou- ble doors and met the day like a baby fresh from the womb. The sun was blinding. The air smelled of freshly cut grass. You breathed it in deep, filling your lungs until they hurt. The world brimmed with freedom and possi- bility, and you were absolutely certain that summer was going to last forever. Many people forget the joy that summer brought them as kids, but not here in Boston. No, here the turn from spring to summer sends us back to the sixth grade, running out of work without even tying our shoes. Why do we suffer through such dreadful winters? Easy: Because when the sun does shine down upon our fair city, nobody soaks it up better t ha n we do. Once t hat ra i nbow t her mometer mounted to t he side of our neighbor's shed goes north of 50, we can almost hear the school bell ring out again. Fif t y-f ive deg rees br ings us back to Fenway, where emerging from that tunnel conjures memor ies of t h row- i ng pea nut shel ls on t he g rou nd, get t i ng w icked su nbu r ned, a nd sit t i ng i n t he bleachers beside that ancient season-ticket holder in the huge headphones who liked to yell at the top of her lungs, "C'mon, Mo, make it go!" A nd we'd respond in kind, unfurling our hand-drawn signs pleading for the great Maurice Vaughn to hi t i t her e a nd i'l l pa i n t ya house! When 60 hits, we break out the barbecue like our dad did, filling neighborhoods with enough smoke to be seen from space. Suddenly men who couldn't find a frying pan to save their lives during the winter start exhibiting a level of culinary mastery that would make Emeril choke on a garlic clove. Summer School Fully appreciating the new england summer is another Form oF higher education. by robert cocuzzo Sevent y a nd our k ids w ill play, play, play into t he wa n- ing hours of dusk. A Wif f le ba ll sk it ter ing across t he hot pavement , t he excited chatter of a neighborhood game of relievo, and the melody of a n ice crea m t r uck tur ning onto our st reet a re t he soundt rack of memor ies t hat w ill never be forgotten. Even when 75 climbs to 80 and the humidity begins to dampen our summer excitement, we revel in the slow drizzle of Ben & Jerry's down our wrists. The heat hover- ing over the pavement only makes our lagers more satisfying. Because beyond the Red Sox, the barbecues, and the sultry afternoons, summer in Boston is about nos- talgia. The rich memories we forge in these three months when the sun burns directly overhead carry us through the rest of the year. And when winter arrives, we remem- ber what our teachers taught us: Good things come to those who wait. BC 128 bostoncommon-magazine.com PARTING SHOT