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These ads are harshing my summer vibe big time. It’s just a haunting reminder that it’s all going to come to a violent screeching halt any minute, and I will suffer the ensuing whiplash because I am simply not ready. That’s why I say summer is just a big tease, a scam, a rip-off. I spend all year pining for it and as soon as it is here everyone acts like it’s already gone. Even on the day that marks the solstice, the beginning of summer, the longest day of the year, I am blue because I know this signals the start of the long slow decline of summer. In 12 short weeks it’s all over, shadows will lengthen, days will shorten and I’ll have to listen to the furnace sputter for what will surely be an eternity.

Soon people will be talking about Thanksgiving and Christmas. Just the other day I saw a sign off the side of the road for a Pumpkin Patch! Puh-leeze, Halloween? This is August and I am soooo not ready for candy corn and rabid trick-or-treaters!

I’m a summer girl. A very depressed and pessimistic sort of summer girl. I know this precious moment, this dear second of tank tops, flip flops, ice-cream, hot dogs and chlorine will be gone in a flash, like sand (summery beach sand) slipping through my hands.

And if that wasn’t bad enough, O-Hi Frostie is closing its doors today. That’s like a permanent end to summer. Owner, Rick Henderson tried his best to tough it out with the landlord, Ron Polito, but lost out in the end. Here is an excerpt from today’s article in the VC Star:

The O-Hi Frostie has been a local landmark and teen hangout since 1953, when it opened as the Big Dipper ice cream shop. Last fall, Henderson put a sign in the window saying "Save the O-Hi Frostie" and before long, the restaurant's fans and regulars were circulating petitions, lobbying City Hall and pressing Polito to keep the place open.

On Monday, Henderson had a sign in the window that said, "Going out of business ... Thanks to Ron P."

So there's just a few hours left to grab a burger and a strawberry shake, scoot into one of the outdoor picnic tables and bask in the final moments of O-Hi Frostie.

September is mere weeks away which means soon it will be my birthday. Somehow I’ll be another year older even though I still feel 21. Okay, alright, I’m a big liar. Who wants to be 21 again anyway? I’d only agree to that if I could take with me what I know now. The end of summer tells me the clock is ticking; if only I could hear the tick-tock over my husband’s joyous refrain, “Woo-hoo, 20 weeks of football!”

Stealing a line from Green Day, “Wake me up when September ends.”