July 25 marked the halfway point between the beginning of the year and Christmas. All the shopping channels had Christmas in July shows, on one hand, I hate it when stores, or shopping channels, blend or overlap holidays, on the other hand, I appreciate the heads up. Six months till Christmas translates to 12 paychecks before Christmas...and that's a frightening thought.
July 25th - the halfway mark. I see the school supply commercials are running. Men on Shelter Island now think it's okay for them to start getting ready for deer season. They've been thinking about it since spring, but you can't talk about deer hunting in the spring when all the little spotted fawns are leaping about, no, you must wait until at least July 25. There's enough time now to slowly introduce the idea of the necessity of a new rifle or new equipment to your wife. Slowly acclimate her to the idea of letting you keep a collection of doe urine in her refrigerator. Put out little blocks of salt lick on the table next to the pepper just to keep a subtle reminder going that soon slabs of venison will grace the table.
School age kids hate the summer halfway mark because the end of July means the beginning of August. August, that long, hot, sultry month with no holidays is all that stands between the joy of summer and the horror of September. September is especially horrible for school kids on Shelter Island, because instead of the prospect of meeting new kids, like in a big school, there's only the prospect of meeting older and more pimply versions of the same kids from last year. I always hated that about SI High - same kids, different year. Being a teen on Shelter Island is to deal with a level of boredom that the Geneva Convention deemed "cruel and unusual punishment." August was all we had, our last weeks with the summer kids, to create memorable adventures that we could embellish through the long months of school to come.
Women love the halfway mark because it means: A) We can give up trying to set aside time for the summer projects we wanted to start in June. B) We can now revel in planning Thanksgiving, Christmas and holiday projects (also never to be started) for the coming months. The catalogs will be here soon. My Christmas season begins with the arrival of the Neiman Marcus Christmas Catalog in August. Gently turning each page, I sigh and crave the latest $500 Herend figure, or $50 Macadamia Coffee Orange liqueur cake, or the the Borghese Metro Makeup Kit that can be mine for $100 with the purchase of $300 of cosmetics. I love the smell of the fresh ink on the paper. I love the smooth pages. It's not just a catalog, it's my friend. My friend who has come to announce the holidays are coming.
With the catalogs, I start reading up on easy to do crafts. I won't end up doing any of them, but that's not the point. It's knowing that I can if I want to. Like an alcoholic who has to keep a small bottle of wine in the house just so he can give it a dirty look from time to time, I need my holiday catalogs and craft magazines around me like a soft security blanket. They comfort me in times of exposure to people who actually get things done. If I have enough catalogs, I can build a fort under the dining room table to hide in when the people who actually get things done come by. They'll never find me in my fort, and if they do, they'll leave me alone because they'll think I'm crazy. Crazy can be a good thing from time to time.
The halfway mark has passed. Whatever you planned to accomplish this summer, you better get on the stick. Whatever you plan to plan, get out your paper and pencil and start making those wonderful lists. Oh, if only lists counted as tasks, imagine all that we'd accomplish! July 25 puts us on notice to do, to plan, to plan to do, or to do the plan. I think that about clears it up.
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