Opinionist: Summertime Blues
DCist welcomes the first official day of summer with a special Opinionist piece by reader Rachel Demma. What are your thoughts on the sweatiest season in the city? Got any summer survival tips? Share what you love and hate about the season.
Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? I could, but that would be pretty cruel. I have been thoroughly enjoying our long string of pleasant spring weather, and a glance at the calendar makes me cringe. Summer is officially upon us. Here in D.C., summer is the worst of seasons. Perhaps it is not as in your face as the icy blasts of winter, but trust me, it is dangerous. Allow me to count the ways:
1) The sun. The sun during summer is the classic “too much of a good thing will kill you while you are too busy wondering how cute you look.” Sunburn, sun stroke, sun poisoning. The ban de soleil is the bath of slow death. Does the sun seem like it’s getting stronger to you too? I’m betting Al Gore would agree. As if the real thing weren’t toxic enough, tanning salons have been popping up around DC at a ridiculous rate. I just have to ask, is that a melanoma in your pocket or are you just happy to see me? No matter. The pursuit of the perma-tan continues.
2) The beach. Of course, many people love the sun’s immediate results. The beach, be it Ocean City, Rehoboth, or Bethany, comes with its own host of horrors—undertows, unprovoked shark attacks, Speedos, horrific traffic tie-ups on Route 50. You must also remain mindful of the roving bands of fried, spotted old people who are moving past you at the same speed at which you drove to the beach, freakishly focused on the blips and beeps emitted by their hand-held metal detectors. They are busy locating all of the beer caps that were left behind yesterday.
3) Mosquitoes. It is too perfect an irony that our nation’s capitol was moved several times and finally got plunked down in a swamp where its gracious monuments are now sinking slowly into the muck. (I am making plans for my cryogenic storage now so that I may again stroll past the Capitol and pat it nicely on the top of its dome.) But usually, around this time in June, as you are tucked into bed at night by a swarm of attentive mosquitoes who followed you inside, you begin to question our founding father’s choice of location.
4) Interns vs. Tourists. The triple-H whammy—hazy, hot, and humid— defines our summer season. The weather report might as well be put on repeat-play for the months of June through August. Over educated city that it is, most Washingtonians are smart enough to avoid this unpleasant sweat-bath. In a rare bipartisan effort, Congress checks out for the summer, and most of us will do the same. Folks you will run into in the summer in D.C. generally fall into two categories—intern or tourist.
Both are easy to spot—interns in their spanking new office garb and the mid-westerners in their U.S. flag fashion T's and tube socks. Both are piercingly vocal—chances are you’ll be hearing a teeth-grindingly tedious save-the-world diatribe or a piercing twang on the Metro. By and large, most current DC residents rolled through town as a member of one or both of these groups at some point in the not too distant past. We see them as the scary, fun house mirror reflection of our suave, polished, wonky selves. And we can’t stand it. But clearly, both groups should be avoided.
So, stay safe this summer! Slather yourself with insect repellent, invest in some sun block. Stock up on earplugs or iPod ear buds. Maybe you’ll be one of the lucky ones who make it.