I was on the treadmill last night when Rocket from the Crypt's "Summer Survivor" came on the ol' iPod. It's an upbeat ditty that appears to be about people taking over San Diego beaches. Some of my favorite lines include "wet t-shirt/in piss/sun block/with shit I don't care," "bougeouis vikings/dead by noon" and "tastes filling/less great/fake tits/as bait."
Anyway, the tune got me thinking that summer is officially here. Each year around this time, I go through a few rituals that usually announce the season, but for some reason, it hadn't dawned on me until last night.
For starters, I've been working on my tan. Duh. Instead of being transparently pale, now I'm just averagely white.
Secondly, my musical taste has shifted. Gone is the spring's cool jazz, hip-hop and Elvis (spring is the re-birth and there's no better way to be re-born than the King) and its its place is lots of the Beach Boys (all eras, not just the surf stuff), early Marvin Gaye (I've never heard anyone else say this, but early Marvin Gaye is the soundtrack to the summer) and plenty of KKJZ's blues shows on the weekends when I'm in my garden drinking beer and playing in the dirt.
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Finally, and this has nothing to do with music, but I've been seeing lots of females wearing less and less. Each time I see one, I wonder what the hell I'm doing with a girlfriend. Then I know it's summer.