I JUST KNOW

It never bothered the Baumgartners. The getting dark early.

Like some Ray Bradbury character, I moaned tonight to my wife,"It's getting dark earlier. I hate to see that."

Bradbury loved Illinois and Summer. He loved Summer nights and kid games and neighborhoods and families. He wouldn't have minded the dark as long as kids weren't rushed to bed. And if they were by unassuming parents, he would want them to be reading under the covers by flashlight.

He would want them to awaken in the night by a gentle breeze blowing in their screened in window. He wouldn't mind a storm and the smell in the air of electrons refreshing. He wouldn't even mind a good scare. No blood;no Freddie necessary. Just good clean imagination.

So maybe that's why at my advanced age, I still hate to see the end of Summer and confinement dictated by the clock. Maybe because I still remember all the fun that sunshine and Summertime brought. I even recall quasi-sneaking (I think my parents knew) my transistor radio into bed and listening to a Cardinal game when they were on the West coast. Or listening to Dick Biondi on WLS in Chicago.

But there was nothing like the freedom of Summer. Even if you blew off a day. It was your day. No strings.

But Summers end. See you in September is more than a great old song. Reined in. No longer unleashed. And I feel for the kids/ the times.

I know crabby old Mr. Baumgartner, our neighborhood Boo Radley who never would have saved any of us would care at all about today,perhaps marking that pasage, but I do.