Summertime just isn 't what it used to be

People don't notice whether it's winter or summer when they're happy.

-- Anton Chekhov

Sometimes I look down my neighborhood street and wonder who stole summer.

When the sun gets high and the day grows hot, I'll be standing at the mailbox and notice it's way too quiet -- certainly for June.

But I know the reason: There are no children outside.

The yards are vacant. The streets are empty.

There is no sound except for the occasional van driving by taking someone to the mall or music lessons or something.

It's almost as if parents aren't supposed to let their children get hot anymore.

They take the word of those brimstone-predicting weathermen with their over-hyped heat indexes and let the kids hide in the house, lulled by the secure hum of air conditioners while they play video games.

That's where you'll find them these days, lounging like lords on comfy couches and watching wide-screen TVs, often featuring reality shows.

They don't know -- and sadly will never know -- that summer is the best reality show.

That's why I ask you if anybody still does summer the right way.

Do kids still dam up creeks and create pools and spend the afternoon enjoying water and talking about stuff?

And when Mom asks how their clothes got wet, do they say they "fell in"?

Do they pick up boards from trash heaps near construction sites and build tree houses?

Do they play ball in the street, imitating the swings of their favorite baseball stars, compensating for the occasional tree standing where an infielder should be?

Do they still hoard baseball cards, not as investments but as small colorful connections to those whose talents they admire?

Does anybody drink from a garden hose anymore, or is that only permitted on certain days?

Does anybody play marbles?

Are slingshots allowed or forbidden by law?

Does anybody race on bicycles?

Do they build ramps and jump them like Evel Knievel?

Do they wreck, wipe out, wash out? Wimp out?

Do they make incredible dares, then fulfill them ... and afterward stand around comparing scabs?

Do kids still sit on porches after a day of reading comic books and heatedly debate who is faster, Superman or the Flash?

Do they still talk an adult into lighting some coals in a grill and letting them roast hot dogs or marshmallows -- or both?

Do they make tents out of old bedspreads and spend the night telling scary stories by flashlight?

Well, I've got one.

If you had told me one day I would live in a world in which risk was forbidden and summer didn't exist, I would have probably run inside to wait out the night.

It's crazy talk.

But it's reality.

Reach Bill Kirby at (706) 823-3344 or bill.kirby@augustachronicle.com.