It’s the first Saturday of June and all I see on Florida television are reminders that we are officially in the hurricane season.

I wish they would stop reminding me. It makes me feel like a prisoner in my own home.

It’s hard to plan an extended vacation, say more than a week because you never know when you have to batten down the hatches and put up the shutters.

Is it too woke of me to complain about Florida hurricanes?

Will I be condemned as an eco-terrorist whining about climate change?

You have to be careful about what you say in the gloom and doom Sunshine State.

Nevertheless, I am looking forward to another summer of reading, listening, and writing.

After spending a month in New York and enjoying the cooler weather, I kinda like feeling the hot sun of Florida. I know that by the time August runs around, I will be pining for the cooler days we used to enjoy in upstate New York. But, for now, the living is easy in Summertime USA.

Remembering what the summer meant to me as a kid and even a young adult going to college. It wasn’t just the weather that changed, it was everything about your life.

Your routine changed. Maybe you slept longer and stayed out on the street with your friends longer when you were in grammar school? Perhaps you had a job in high school that helped you buy records? By the time I was in college, I was working in the city and loving every sweaty moment of taking the un-airconditioned number six train and transferring to the express at 125th Street.

Your mood definitely changed. Even rainy days couldn’t dampen your spirits. You knew that the brilliant sun would soon return and the light-deprived days of the winter would be a far distant memory.

I definitely had more money in my pocket. You had to have more money. Even as a kid, there was the Good Humor Man to support, not to mention Bungalow Bar and Mister Soft. Then we had Yankee games and Met games to attend and the mandatory movie on rainy days.

In college, there were albums to buy and outdoor concerts to attend in Central Park, and I had to pay for my season tickets to the Jets. And Bali Hai was cheap, but you still had to have some money when you went to the liquor store.

Your attire changed too. No white shirts with blue ties and dress pants, and a blazer. PF Flyers and Kids replaced our black shoes, and I always got a crew cut. This all changed when we got older as we continued to sport dress clothes for our summer jobs, especially if you worked in the City. But when we got home, we donned our faded jeans and Adidas. Of course, by then, we had long given up the crew cut in favor of long hair.

Summer was the best thing since Christmas and it lasted so long.

Eventually, though, August would come around, and the radio would soon be playing the infernal reminder from Robert Hall Clothes that school bells were ringing (or would soon be). I hated that jingle. It was a real ear worm and permeated your psyche in an attempt to ruin your last month of freedom. We shut the radio of and returned to summer.

They say that meteorological summer begins on June 1st.

So, Happy Summer, everyone!