School’s Out Forever

I am sure many of you have been asking yourself over the last month, “Where’s Tomser’s Blog?”. “Has he deserted us?” “Are we going to be left to grope through this crazy mixed-up world without his pithy insights and razor like wit?” Or, more likely, none of you even noticed that I had stopped posting and are somewhat surprised to see me reappear. Whichever way it is, like MacArthur, I am back.  

The truth of the matter is that I decided to take a summer break. I had trips planned for late July, and late August, so I was going to be out of pocket some anyway. Plus, as I thought about the time away, memories flooded back of that feeling when school let out for the year, and an expanse of free time appeared to stretch out indefinitely. I thought that I would try and recapture that a bit of feeling. 

To be honest, I am never sure whether that is a feeling I truly ever had. Let’s face it, memories of growing up are hazy at best, and memories of specific feelings at specific times even more suspect. Does it just seem like I must have had that feeling and did I thereby implant the “memory” of that euphoria into the nether reaches of my brain? 

Frankly, I don’t care. Whether it’s a real memory or a manufactured one, it is as visceral as anything from childhood. I can picture myself walking away from Asa Packer Elementary, or East Hills Junior High, or Freedom High and letting out a whoop of release from the daily grind of school. I can see myself looking forward to sleeping in, aimlessly rolling out of bed, turning on the TV to watch late morning cartoons and feeling as blissfully free as I ever would.  

The summers, of course, never played out that simply. There were things to be done, and even I got bored of the Flintstones after a while (unless it was the episode where Barney and Fred build a pool to share, and Fred ends up using a fake cop to try and scare his bosom buddy and lifelong pal). Yet, neighborhood friends were always around, as were above-ground, non-Flintstone, swimming pools to lounge in. Pretty idyllic. 

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The feeling lingered on through my working years, even though there was no summer break, per se. Our office closed at 3:00 before the Memorial Day weekend (corporate employers are soooo generous) and it felt like the beginning of summer. I was exhilarated leaving the building, even though I knew I would be back four days later.  

I also lived vicariously through my children (don’t we all). I could sense their excitement as the school year wound down. I knew they were anxious to put aside the perceived drudgery of school, even if they liked their teachers and classes. We always marked the passing of the school year and anticipation of the summer fun ahead by going out for dinner or ice cream. I enjoyed that as much as the kids did. 

So, did talking a month off from this blog match the intoxication of an endless summer? Yes and no. It was nice to get away from the self-imposed discipline of sitting down to write every morning. It was somewhat liberating to have no scheduled tasks, even if the schedule was my own and not one imposed by work or school. And it did seem a bit more like an endless summer having the open days of August stretching out ahead. 

On the other hand, the perception of unlimited possibility as the summer break started can’t be duplicated. The feeling that possibilities are endless is one of those things that dwindles over time. There is so much of life that is inevitable (apart from Thanos) and that becomes clearer as we get older. 

Part of the trick of retirement is getting back a taste of those wide horizons. It will never be the same, because obligations remain that just weren’t there growing up, not to mention the physical limitations. Yet, the horizons are wider than they have been for 40 years, and that is nothing to sneeze at. 

While it might have only been a pale reminder of the euphoria of youth, taking August to regroup was undoubtedly a plus. Even a glimmer of unbounded free days ahead is a good thing. Oddly enough, that’s true even though there is no imposed structure on my time. I can’t explain it, but that’s the way it is.