How Can It Be End of Season in Mid July?

First, a correction to last week’s column, and the reason why a teacher’s performance should not be pegged upon a student’s inability to remember. Diamondback terrapins are reptiles, not of that incorrect “A” class I used last week. That from Phil Broder, educator at The Wetlands Institute. Ever the educator, and a top ‘o the hat!
Now on to very serious stuff. A week away from the oppressive heat we endured, I was taken aback at the sign in a local store window that boldly proclaimed:. End of Season Sale. End of season? Man, it’s still the middle of summer…or is it?
Ever since June 21, (first day of summer and also when days start to drift slowly into darkness), I have noticed the sky at 5:30 a.m. is not as bright as it was in May. Sleepy-eyed, I chalked that up to cloudy weather.
Facts are fact, and there was that big poster in the store window: End of Season Clearnace. Gosh, am I behind the eight-ball again? I thought it was still vacation season when suntan lotion and salt water taffy were hot sellers, but guess I was wrong. Just a couple weeks ago I fetched the short-sleeve shirts from the attic, now, since the season’s apparently done, maybe I ought to stow ‘em up in the hot place again, and bring down my longjohns.
I should have surmised something was afoot. In the Sunday newspaper various stores were starting to offer “Back to School” sales and supplies. To someone who shops for Christmas in the last week before the day, buying school supplies in July is just wrong. I must say it did bring a tinge of nostalgia seeing sales for notebook paper (three-holes, college ruled), pencils and pens, erasers and binders. I thought pupils of the modern age were beyond all that non-technical stuff.
Who needs a pen or pencil when you input data via keyboard or tap the screen on your pad or phone? Maybe they still teach cursive writing, but I’m sure that’s endangered, too. Used to be class sluggards would ask the teacher why they had to learn to write. The answer, “So you can sign your name on the back of your paycheck.” Well, that’s history, too, with the advent of direct deposit pay.
I should also have surmised the end of summer was nigh when those outdoor catalogs start filling the mailbox with fall hunting gear, orange bib overall attire and warm coats. It is, after all, the End of Season.
Ever the cheapskate, I cheated and put plain water in my car’s windshield washer bottle. I’m scared now, since the end is coming. So the other day, I bought regular windshield washer that won’t freeze, just in case. I’ve been squirting the water in vast quantities, but it’s an endless jug. I had better get that water out fast. We can never be sure when snow’s coming.
Blame all this on global warming and one of those Pacific Ocean curiosities El Niños or La Niñas, which I can never figure which one does what to us.
Another hint I ought to have realized that it was End of the Season was the countdown to Election Day. Yes, brave voter, days are numbered when we will no longer be forced to endure suffering endless political mudslinging. No candidate is worthy to hold office, if we base our votes on such tripe as is served up to the masses.
As supplies of beach umbrellas, inflatable tubes and colorful balls in seasonal sections of stores dwindle, and in all probability, Halloween candy is being loaded, or may already be in stock in storerooms. They’re right in front of the turkeys and pilgrim decorations for Thanksgiving, which will probably be out by Sept. 1, followed by, you guessed right! Christmas candy and novelties go on sale on or about Oct. 1.
In order to try to beat the clock, we’ll try to put out early editions of the Herald so you won’t be taken by surprise. We won’t want readers to suffer loss because we missed the start of hunting season or sales for Three Kings Day. We’ll also try to give ample time for the bakers among us to haul in sufficient cherries to bake pies for George Washington’s birthday, and cinnamon enough to make Irish potatoes for St. Patrick’s Day.
Taking trashcans curbside weekly is one of my household chores. It’s absolutely amazing but it seems they are out one day, in the next and out again the following day. I’m told it’s a sign of age when such things begin to occur.
So, dear reader, be ready for the End of the Season; it’s here and we didn’t know it. There’s no time to waste. Buy those forever stamps and send out Christmas cards before the Valentine’s Day candy goes on sale. Hurry, hurry, before it’s too late.