There are many potential cliches at play here. I’ll try to avoid them.
Labor Day weekend arrives, another summer gone.
Melancholy has always been a natural part of the end of summer for me. But this year I find myself wondering, more than normal, how it is that each summer seems to go faster.
A friend shared that there are scientific explanations for that. When we are 12, our perspective is based on only those dozen years of life, at least half of which we cannot remember. Hence, looking forward to getting our drivers license at age 16 seems like a lifetime away because relatively, it is somewhat equal to our lifetime’s memory. When we are 70-ish, four years in the past and four years in the future are relatively miniscule. A blink of the eye.
Frankly, that’s all a bit deep for my feeble mind. All I know is that each year seems to accelerate. This summer was a blur. It started with our second grandchild’s high school graduation, then changes at church and the office, a couple weddings, some extended family gatherings, a long-anticipated trip that came and went too quickly, grandkids’ summer activities but not enough one-on-one time, then all of a sudden there are football games again and September is here.
It doesn’t help any that I’m feeling “left behind” …
Culturally, I have no clue who these people are that get Oscars and Emmys and Tony awards. While I continue to find the Wall Street Journal an excellent source for national and international news and opinions, their lifestyle pages grow less relevant by the week. They produce a monthly magazine featuring ads for brand names I’ve never heard of and celebrities and personalities that are total strangers. The cover feature that arrived last week is about someone named Zoe Kravitz. (The “e” has an umlaut, so she must be foreign. I think she’s a she.)
Politically, the gap between what I perceive to be reasonable and normal and how a growing number of elected officials at all levels perform — most especially in Washington, of course — only widens. At the top of the heap, even the possibility that our choices will be the same in 2024 that we had in 2020 is nothing short of maddening.
The thought occurs to me that none of this is new. My ruminatings this past week kept bringing to mind the 1976 movie “Network.” Peter Finch’s character, Howard Beale, is a has-been national news anchor being put out to pasture. He used that platform to proclaim “I’m as mad as hell, and I’m not going to take this anymore!” How about you? Do you feel like leaning out the window and joining that chorus? As people age, I wonder, do we all experience this “left behind” feeling at some point? Will it go away?
Did I mention that Labor Day is typically a melancholy time of year for me? If it were not for the beautiful fall weather — and the Street Fair — I’d vote for skipping right to November and Thanksgiving, a day that’s always good for the soul.
And I was just kidding about the Street Fair.
miller@news-banner.com
