Summer is How Life Should Be

Growing up, I don’t think that Minnesota Summer meant much to me. 

It was just a normal part of life –

You go to school from September through June,

And then summer comes around.

When you don’t have to go to school.

You don’t have to study.

You get to go to the library and summer camps.

And before you knew it, it was time for back-to-school.

Now, I live for Minnesota Summer.

Maybe because it’s the hope that we live for 9 months out of the year.

9 freezing months of scraping our cars and shoveling driveways.

When we were kids, our parents did that.

Now we have to.

When I was in college, I loved spring.

Spring, because it meant we had survived most of the year.

Spring, because people wore flip-flops and played Frisbee when it was 40 degrees.

Spring, because it brought promise of new life and fresh beginnings.

Spring, because it meant that summer was coming.

Because Minnesota Summer is the time of year when you get to live that new life.

Windows down.

When you get to explore those new beginnings.

Learn to ski. Listen to new music.

When you get to sit around bonfires with old friends

And laugh at how your survived the year.

I don’t only mean the weather.

Maybe I love Minnesota Summer

Because I’m grown up now.

And Minnesota Summer gives me the opportunity to

Be free

Be careless

Explore

Release inhibitions

Be adventurous

Be unproductive

These are often things we expect of children.

But now, as adults, are given permission to do only in the summer.

Because winter – jobs – responsibility – don’t allow them.

Minnesota Summer means

Driving with the wind in my hair

Windows down, music up

And taking the long way home

It means my happy place
Is behind a boat, gliding over the water

It means
Family time

Grilling out

Long walks

Bonfire talks

Mojitos

Old friends

Outdoor concerts

Ice cream.

Lake life

Sunburn.

Road trips

Watersports.

Breakfast on the porch

Iced coffee

Stargazing

Good books

Movies

Late nights

Runs in the sun. Around lakes. Through forests.

S’mores.

Laugh. Sweat. Swim. Boat. Eat. Drink. Dive. Sing. Sunburn. Meander. Dream.

Take time to be.

Take time to be free.

Take time to enjoy.

Because summer is how life should be.

Bob Dylan Across Cultures

Today I heard a beautiful story.

I was at a live poetry night at a local café, so clearly the question, “Who is the greatest cultural figure to come from Minnesota?” wasn’t unexpected.  During my time in India, I have learned that the correct answer to this question is (clearly) Bob Dylan.  The guy I was talking to (We’ll call him D) had a lightbulb “aha” moment where he said, “Yes! THAT’s why I know Duluth Minnesota!  You know, Bob Dylan inspired me to write.”

After the poetry readings, I asked him about his Bob Dylan story.

When he was young, 15/16, he worked at an office.  Work started at 9, but he always came early because he liked to watch the day begin – the maids washing the floors, the flower man bringing flowers, the chai guy setting up outside, a fresh start to a new day.  This was during the time that personalized music ringtones were coming out in India, and they advertised them online.  They advertised simply by playing the song to a screen that said “If you want this ringtone, dial this number.”

It is safe to say that the majority of these busy bees preparing the office for the day to come were of a lower caste, and most didn’t speak a lick of English.  I imagine them simply sharing the space, sharing the morning, being comfortable in each others company.  One day, D had fought with his girlfriend and was especially glum.  One of the workers, a guy from Pune, noticed his demeanor and asked why he was down.  Upon receiving the answer, the worker picked up the phone, dialed, handed D the receiver, and said, “Listen.”

It was Bob Dylan’s Tambourine Man. 

When the song was over, they redialed and listened again.  D was calmed, brightened, cheered.

D asked, “But how do you know this song?”

The worker answered, “I just hear it on the television, and I liked it.  Anytime that I am down I just call the number and listen to this song.  It always makes me feel better and makes my day a little brighter.”

He had merely heard the song on TV.  He didn’t know Bob Dylan as an artist.  He didn’t speak English and therefore didn’t understand the song.  But this didn’t matter – what matters is that the music soothed his soul…so much that he wanted to share it with another in need.

And that, my friends, is the beauty of art.  It speaks across languages, across cultures, across class.  While this worker may not have understood the words of the lyrics, he still understood. 

This is Minnesota Summer

Summer is almost over, and it is almost time to move on.  Not into winter, but over to India.
Minnesota summer is my absolute favorite season of the year, and I hope that it is something that I will always be a part of.

If I had to sum it up in three photos, Minnesota summer would be best described by

 Sidewalk chalk.  This begins to appear in March, and it's a sure sign that summer is coming.
Creativity is uninhibited, and it continues in this fashion for the duration of the summer.
Games are created, memories are made, lemonade stands make bank.
This is Minnesota summer.

 Family week at the cabin.  It's a staple every summer, and without it my life wouldn't be complete.

Boating.  Game time.  Movie nights.  Photo shoots.
Laughing until your sides ache and tears are falling.
This is Minnesota summer.

Lake Calhoun.  I am here almost daily.  If you come to Minneapolis in the summer, come here.

Take a walk.  Read a book.  Meet a friend.  Make a friend.  Dog watch.  People watch.  

Ride a bike.  Rent a paddle board.  Walk into Uptown.  Take a nap.  

This is Minnesota summer.