Summer Vacation. Grilled Oysters. See, now you're smiling.

Well I am smiling too, because part of my summer vacation will be spent in Norway. In fact I am probably halfway there as you read this. At least in my mind. Because so much of summer lives in my mind. Yours too I bet. I am talking about the summers of our youth. They can be magical for all sorts of reasons. Even the torment of youth seems sweeter when lived out in the summer months.

Well I have asked a talented crew of bloggers to stop by while I am away and tell you a bit about the summers from their childhoods. I can guarantee you delicious stories. So please pop in here regularly and learn just a little bit more about some of the folks out there. I bet in the process you learn a little something about yourself too.

Of course I can't ask all these people to open up and share unless I am willing to do it also. So I'll start the series off with some memories from my youthful summers in Michigan. These were the summers when I was just beginning to find my life and my place in the world. I have probably mentioned some of this before. But when I was a kid I was painfully shy, stick thin and tough as nails. Not a great combination if your main goal in life is enjoying the summer with other kids. You quickly learn that swimming pools and tennis courts fall behind enemy lines. Day camp is deadly. Even the street in front of your house is a battlefield.

It’s my Birthday! Yep, today is the day. November 11^th. Eleven/Eleven!

Don’t ask how old I am though, not that I wouldn’t tell you; it’s just that I have not quite decided how old I am going to be this year. I used 32 for way too many years. I can’t really get away with that one anymore. So I gotta think of a new age. Once I decide you’ll be the first to know. I promise.

In the meantime what are we going to do to celebrate? I am not really a “gifts” kind of person. Presents always make me uncomfortable, in an “I’m not worthy kind of way”. It’s always excruciating, even when I love the present, because I always manage to come across as ungrateful. I can be such a prickly bastard. I don’t know why. In actuality I have never been given a gift I did not love whole-heartedly. I just have trouble expressing it in any other way than an “I’m not worthy” kind of way.

It’s kind of like that scene in the movie Harold and Maude. Harold gives Maude a lovely token of his love and she flings it into the bay as Harold watches in astonishment. She then sighs contentedly and says, to Harold’s confusion– “so I’ll always know where it!” It’s not that she didn’t love her present, it’s just the emotions of the moment overwhelmed her, and she acted unconventionally. Well, I am kind of like Maude, only younger and not as good looking… so don’t make any jokes, ‘cuz I’ve heard ‘em all before!