Chills, And Why.
“Do you believe in miracles?!”
Thank you, Al Michaels.
“Don’t know how else to say it, I don’t wanna see my parents grow old.”
John Mayer knows how to tug on the heartstrings.
“When are you coming home next, I miss you.”
Mom and Dad know how, too.
Those might hit the hardest.
I’m all over the place today. Which is both the reason for writing this, and the reason I’m having trouble writing this. It’s a weird time of year and I don’t know if I — as a living, breathing, entity— have ever really understood what to do during this stage of late summer/early fall. We’re entering the last few months of the year, or the last leg if you will. And not to sound totally douche-tastic, but I find myself reflecting a lot during this time. Summer is over. I’m feeling vulnerable, sensitive, lazy, and somehow over-stimulated all at the same time. Fucking seasons, man. Instead of just floating around in this strange abyss, I wanted to capture some of that. This isn’t something I’d normally write about, but I’m writing it.
Summer’s gone. And as irrational as it sounds, I’m always afraid that Summer will stay gone. I’m afraid that the good times won’t ever be as good again. Maybe I have this fear because it seems so far away. A year is a long time. So I get caught in this tug of war between wanting to enjoy summer until the very end, and moving on as fast as possible into fall. It’s that strange middle ground where I’m literally wearing shorts with a hoodie, while trying not to look like a complete idiot.
Hold on to your hats because this next paragraph is going to sound like stoner talk. I get chills just thinking about the grand scheme of things, and how my time on this earth might not be all that important. But that only amplifies the smaller moments at the other end of the spectrum. Like when I see my significant other curled up on our couch, looking beautiful in a pair sweatpants and a sweatshirt…those are good, great, amazing chills that stick with you no matter what else is happening in the world.
Fall is almost here. That means football Sundays, cold nights, flannels, jeans, boots. Cold rain is back and so are the chills it creates. That yearning for a Friday night bonfire. The smell of smoke that lingers on your clothes until the next time you wash them. I’m being totally candid here. New York City is pretty amazing in the Fall, but it sucks not having a yard by a river and a bonfire. I miss it so much it hurts. Maybe it’s also the realization that all good things must come to an end. Summer ends, Fall brings good things, then those disappear too. This sounds super emo and selfish given what’s going on in the world these days, but it is what it is.
There’s a great Third Eye Blind lyric, “Shiver in the wind it shows, all I have are summer clothes.” I grew up in a small town in Western Pennsylvania along the Allegheny River. It was the epitome of a Summer town. Maybe that’s why the end of Summer feels like the end of the world. Because as a kid, that’s literally what it felt like. The river which held boats, and parties, and recreation all summer would soon freeze over. No more campers, no more BBQ, everyone just leaves. That’s a tough thing to comprehend growing up.
I’m not sure what the message, or moral of this piece is. Maybe it’s that this time of year — like an album, or a book, or a movie, or a song — can take you back to a memory. Some of them are great, fun memories. Some of them invoke sadness or melancholy, and that’s okay. I think the biggest thing for me is to at least feel something. I want to say the main reason I wrote this piece, was to prove to myself that even if I were feeling melancholic during this time, at the very least I wasn’t apathetic. I wanted to prove that as a writer and as a human, I could be productive. Embracing good feelings and memories is easy. Embracing the melancholy is more difficult. Embrace those chills.
Thanks for reading maybe the most downer thing I’ve ever written. Now excuse me while I go write some dick and fart jokes.
