Summer, 90’s style
The sun is shining through your window. Sheets are piled at the foot of the bed, and the fan is running on max speed. Summertime in Kansas City is in full swing. The radio static from the kitchen clears, and an excited news anchor updates the daily weather. It’s much cooler than in the 2020’s, but the hole in the ozone layer is a concern. So slap on lots of sunscreen! The phone in the kitchen rings loudly, and won’t stop because it’s attached to the wall and someone needs to get out of bed to pick it up.
Groaning, you do just that, maybe tripping over your roller blades on the floor. A Nirvana poster sits behind your TV, a bunny ear antenna poking Kurt Cobain in the face.
Who could be calling at this hour? The possibilities are endless, and without Caller ID to clue you in, anyone could be waiting on the other end of that receiver. But there is zero chance that it’s a robot trying to get you to donate blood.
Thankfully, it’s your friend who heard from your other friends that everyone wants to get together and ride bikes to the public pool, where you can spend the entire day cooling off in the water, basking in the sun, and getting snacks from the cute snack bar attendant you know from math class.
The pile of well-worn clothes on your floor is enormous. Your only appointment was outside, so it wasn’t imperative to wash anything. It’s easier to plan your outfit around your swimsuit anyway. Before running out the door, you leave a handwritten note for your family or roommate, since there are no screens to check in with. No need to pack keys or a cell phone charger. Besides, the pager your parents got you for emergencies fits snugly on your waistband and only disturbs you when necessary. Everything you need is available at the pool or on your bike — the easiest and most accessible mode of transportation in your neighborhood.
You head directly to the pool, swiftly but at your own pace, without cars menacing the road behind you. The trees lining the street shade you from the sun, and the breeze blows against your cheeks. Hands-free, no need to follow directions because you’ve walked and biked these paths hundreds of times. Wayfinding is easy here because it’s practiced and because many other people are heading the same way too — by bike, foot and rollerblade.
Just as sweat beads are beginning to form on your brow, you are blinded by a ray of sunshine reflecting off the water. You’ve arrived. You throw your bike onto a pile of other familiar bikes without coming to a full stop, instinctively dashing to the gated entrance, anticipating the joy on the other side. The pool employee takes a small entrance fee, and you bolt inside to find the section of chairs your friends have occupied.
Although it’s crowded, many of the faces are recognizable to you. These are the faces of your mom’s friends, the woman who serves you lunch at school, people you work with, sit next to on the bus, people who work in the grocery store and at the post office. No one is out of bounds here. Everyone comes to exist at the pool. No one here cares about what you’re doing except for the people you’re there with and, even then, they’re all doing their own things too.
This summer might sound like one you remember. One that feels not so far away and incredibly distant all at once. Recreating moments like these seems much more difficult now because we’ve adapted to being so connected to our cell phones. Back then, the time it took to get somewhere was much more precious and as important as arriving at your destination. Without digital distractions, your priorities change. You appreciate the journey instead of wanting to speed-run it to be more productive. Your sense of urgency becomes about racing to see your friends and experiencing your community.
By the time the sun has started to set, and everyone is heading home, you’re starving! With just enough energy to get home in time for dinner, you wave goodbye to the people you came with and the people you met, and then pedal home furiously. Before the streetlights are at their brightest, lightning bugs illuminate your way, dancing in front yards along your street. You make it home, lock up your bike, and are welcomed back into a place that has been undisturbed by the day, and the only thing left to do for the night is rinse off and decide what you’re going to eat.
I realize that not all of us are able to completely ignore the realities of today, but I do hope some of you give it a valiant try. The Mid-America Regional Council has resources from bike maps and heritage trails to help you escape outdoors or find shade from the heat; long lists of gardening practices, composting tips and rainwater management ideas for you to get lost in and fill your days. Ultimately, though, we hope you can let go of the pressures of always being “on” and attached, and find ways to enjoy what’s immediately around you like back then: simply, playfully, joyfully.
H.A.G.S.
(Have a Great Summer)