Magic City Morning Star

Advertising | RSS Feed | About Us 

Last Updated: Aug 30, 2015 - 4:58:37 AM 

An eclectic mix of news and information
Staff Login
Donate towards our web hosting bill!

Front Page 
  News
  -- Local
  -- State
  -- National
  Community
  Business
  -- IRS News
  -- Win at Work
  Education
  -- History
  Tech Notes
  Entertainment
  -- Comics
  International
  -- R.P. BenDedek
  -- Kenneth Tellis
  Outdoors
  Sports
  Features
  -- M Stevens-David
  -- Down the Road
  Christianity
  Today in History
  Opinion
  -- Editor's Desk
  -- Guest Column
  -- Scheme of Things
  -- Michael Devolin
  -- Tom DeWeese
  -- Ed Feulner
  -- Jim Kouri
  -- Julie Smithson
  -- J. Grant Swank
  -- Doug Wrenn
  Letters
  Agenda 21
  Book Reviews
  -- Old Embers
  Notices
  Archive
  Discontinued


Web Directory Reviews
WDR Directory of Directories
Restore The Republic - The Home of the Freedom Movement!

Down the Road

Down that (late) summer Road a Piece
By Milt Gross
Aug 30, 2015 - 4:50:24 AM

Email this article
 Printer friendly page

Maine has short summers and long winters. Thank God for those long winters that I hate so much. Mind you, I don't enjoy numb fingers and cold toes or trying to get the car out of a snowy spot. But winter has advantages.

I never contracted skin cancer in winter. Not one to imitate, I never wore wool shirts and wool pants like so many genuine Maineiacs don in the hot summer. I see them almost every time we're out in summer, while we're keeping the car air-conditioner on and my shorts-clad legs a bit cooler.

Melanoma occurred a few years ago. All my time in Maine since my little-noted arrival in 1965, I've worn shorts in summer. I used to often also go without a shirt. In the canoe, in the garden, on the trail, on the mountaintops when they were warm enough. Why wear a shirt, you just have to launder it.

Then in the early 1990s, I found out why I should wear a shirt in summer. I looked in the mirror and saw this horrible dark shape. Dolores looked too and declared it a horrible dark shape. About that time a hospital ran a free cancer-seeking clinic, so we attended. After telling me three times she didn't want to alarm me, so scaring me to death, the doctor announced that the horrible dark shape was melanoma, skin cancer.

A surgeon removed it, and I've never since gone without a shirt in summer. Rather be hot than have skin cancer. But I'd rather not be hot.

Winter takes care of that problem. Fall is better yet, cool enough to want to wear a shirt but not cold enough for all that heavy outwear.

What understrengthed wimp wants to skip that beautiful tan in summer? This one does. (I just invented that word "understrengthed" because who wants to describe oneself as a 97-pound -- or 197-pound for that matter -- weakling.

But I still love summer to some degree. When we can sit by the town dock, enjoying the sea breeze and watching the seagulls frantically search for lunch or dinner, depending on the time of day. I've had them gather around in summer, try to mob the sandwich out of my hand, scare me with their crowds and screeches, and conduct other threatening activities.

In the winter that doesn't happen, not only because I don't sit on picnic tables nibbling a sandwich, but primarily because that park with the picnic table is closed in winter. I've often wondered how those seagulls survive all winter without my sandwich bits.

We have left our house and now reside in a nice retirement apartment complex, where somebody else cuts the grass and makes those awful house repairs, such as the leaking faucet a plumber is currently supposed to be taking apart. Of course it's still summer, but I'm enjoying those joys of summer a bit more. I'm not cutting the grass or swearing at the leaking faucet.

Even though I dislike cutting the summer lawn, fighting off the summer bugs, and risking melanoma in my summer garb, I have to admit Belfast bay is a lot more enjoyable in summer. Milt Gross photo.

I do enjoy the longer daylight hours of summer, I have to admit. Going to work in the dark at 5 a.m. in the cold never really made my day. Getting up at 8 a.m., hours after daylight has arrived, I have to admit is much more fun. Even though I'm retired.

I also have to admit, I do enjoy hearing those birds singing well before I climb out of bed in the morning. That never happens in those cold-weather winters.

Hey, looking back at what I just banged out on the iMac, maybe I do enjoy summer more.

As long as I can avoid summer colds and melanoma.

And in summer I can sing, as I can't in winter -- for which others are thankful, "In the good old summertime."


Milt Gross can be reached for corrections, harassment, or other purposes at lesstraveledway@roadrunner.com.

Milton M. Gross Copyright 2015


© Copyright 2002-2014 by Magic City Morning Star

Top of Page

Down the Road
Latest Headlines
All stuck up
Walking to walk
Trying to retire
Where are the birds?
A walk worth remembering this new year

A Dinosaur of Education - a blog by James Fabiano.
Shobe Studios
Wysong Foods - Pets and People Too

Google
 
Web magic-city-news.com