Julys in Chicago are a one-of-a-kind adventure. The grass is never greener, the skies never bluer, the lake never warmer, and the spirit of independence never stronger. If that sounds a little fanciful, let me plead my case before another July gets lost in the humdrum drumbeat of another summer of sinking teams and saddening news....!
To begin with, this spirit of independence is the sizzle to each parade, picnic and pizazz we have on the Fourth. More than ever, our nation's independence shines bright in a world dark with tyrannies. But the sizzle doesn't stop on the Fifth. So many other examples all July long.
Look at it this way. More than in any other month, Chicagoans are independent of the cruelty of their winters, the capriciousness of their springs, and the dog days of their Augusts. Children are independent of the rigors of the classroom. Vacationers, of the toil of work. And toddlers, of those shoes that so stifle their style.
July is also the month, in 1969, when man first landed on the moon. Making us forever independent of our planet. No small accomplishment this one-large-step-for-mankind on that July 20. As far as we know this was the first time any creature in the cosmos ever freed himself from his planetary origins.
And the beat goes on, because our Julys are traditionally the time we find ourselves independent of so many suffocating daily routines. These are the days of Ferris wheels, rocket rides, and cotton candy. The nights for moons and canoes and lips in the dark. The times when long untasted memories enrich the diet of our souls, when the magic of fireflies and shooting stars re-generate our Muses, when anniversaries and reunions wake up long dozing deliriums.
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None of this is to say the 31 days of July hold a monopoly on our happiness, but surely they own a piece of our summertime giddiness. It can be reported without fear of contradiction -- happiness and giddiness are as necessary to life as earning of living and balancing a budget!
Each month has its own celestial claim to fame. However, there is nothing this side of that moon to fully compare with the mystic month the Romans respectfully named after Julius Caesar It's the month which celebrates with Rubies and DeScenza Diamonds, is spoken for with Larkspur and Water Lillies, and features some of the most astonishing star constellations of the year.
To astrologers, July is period of cosmic energies. To managers, a period of make-or-break series. To young lovers, no better time for love to become poetry. Each of the other 334 days on the calendar have a full 24 hours of promise too. And yet, July's 31 here in Chicago promise adventures like none other
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Promising days unlived, though, are the saddest days of all...
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I've never really been a "summer person", but you make July sound so delicious, with all its wonder and endless activities. Then again, when you don't have people to share it with, it's just another month. So this piece brings joy because of the pictures you create, but alienation from a world that is happening that I can only watch from afar. But reading about it is better than nothing.
ReplyDeleteDear Anonymous -- Well, not everyone has "someone to share with." From widows and widowers to monks and writers. But the nice thing about Julys are they're always right there for the plucking. Whether with only one hand or with a group hug!So I'd say pluck any way you can. They're there and they're free.
ReplyDeleteOh, and the more you do, the more likely you'll run into some other hands trying to do the same thing.