In the beginning, I hated Tucson. I dug school, and I loved the U of A, but Tucson bothered me. I hated the weather, the high hick ratio, the lack of an ocean, the half-dozen wal-marts in city limits and the complete futility of trying to get in and out of a grocery store without hearing some bizarre tale a transient would tell as an explanation of how any spare change I had would save his life.
I kinda dig it now, though. Especially in the summer.
There's something weird about Tucson summers, I'm not sure people who've spent their lives here are aware of it, and I don't think people understand unless they've been here for at least a whole one. I don't know how to explain it, except that they're... mad. In the Kerouac definition of the word, not the angry type. They're intense, as though the mindbending heat pushes energy, breathes more life into the people for an extra couple months out of the year. Every spring, I go into my last final and the world around me is students shufffling with their heads hung low, or in a state of flash panic, last minute cramming. There's a sense of sullen, hopeless, yet frantic academia, the last reserves of effort and energy plunging forth for this one final task. But as I walk out of my final, it's like a whole different world. I'm pretty sure Tucson doesn't actually change within that hour and a half, it's just that there's a parallel universe here that one can only be aware of when you're no longer tied to class. The air smells like rain, freshly mown grass, sunscreen and hot dogs. Fantastically beautiful girls rollerblading past you, dressed the way they only can in the summer. Suddenly, now that you no longer have any direction to exert your energy, you have it again.
Tucson summers are lazy days and mad nights. Barhopping followed by halo parties, bowing to the porcelain god because you lost track of how many drinks everyone poured you. They're hiding inside watching farscape all day, screaming when someone opens the door and paints direct sunlight on your face. They're some girl on the couch next to you yelling "Close the door, you're letting all the dark out!" and frisbee and barbecues and monsoons. Freak rainstorms where the very sky is ripped apart by lightning strikes only a mile away, and the sky is all sunny and happy a half hour later, the streets flowing like rivers and the smell of dust kicked up into your nostrils. The nights are warm, with amazing indigo blue washing through the night sky, brought on by sunsets that can't even be described, pinks and oranges and greens and blues, and you have this sense like you're somewhere important, like the world is never going to be this way anywhere else, and it's your holy task to savor it, and to remember.
I swear it makes me some sort of freak to say it, but I love the desert in the summer.
-Alex
I hate you alex. Only you could make me miss tucson in the summer… fucker… Andrew Oplinger () - 05 31 05 - 11:45
Why is it that all of your entries fall into the “Shaggy’s entries” category and are written by “Alex” and then all of Dave’s entries are written by “Oz” and fall into the “Dave’s Entries” category? Why are mine the only ones that are by Zeke for Zeke? And what’s with all of the Trannie shit? Is there something you need to tell us about our sponsors? Billy - 06 01 05 - 10:57
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