If only I could relive the summers of my childhood

Come on now. Just sink into your couch and think back ... back to when your days were carefree and lazy. Back to when your mom poured your Cookie Crisps for you. Back to when your "job" entailed brushing your teeth every morning and picking up Ruff's poop in the afternoon. Back ... back ... back ...

Chris Langrill Idiot Wind

I can see myself waking up. Bright and early as always. It's around 11:15 a.m., and I' m walking down the hall to start another productive day, rubbing my eyes and adjusting my jumbled Detroit Pistons pajamas. I get into the family room and my younger brother, Tony, has beaten me to the punch - he has the good couch and the controller. I'd try to wrestle it from him, but I'm still too groggy. So I sit down in a nearby chair and settle in for the last 45 minutes of "The Price Is Right". In the background, Mom's pouring us some cereal.

Around 1 or so, after we've both showered and found some not-too-crumpled clothes to throw on, Tony and I, like two unfrozen cavemen, stumble out of the garage and into the blinding summer light. Hands over his eyes, he grunts something along the lines of "we play catch, ugh?" I nod back in the affirmative and, before you know it, we're swearing and hurling baseballs at each other's head. You know, bonding.

After I've tattooed him with a couple good bruises, and he's gotten in the mandatory arm bites, we head out to our backyard pool. Five minutes of pretend-you're-an-Olympic-swimmer is enough though, so I opt to grab a raft from the deck. Tony, lacking my stamina, runs inside to the comfort of the air-conditioned family room, while I proceed to lay out for a couple hours, letting my fingers and toes hang in the soothing water.

Then, he ventures back outside to ask me if I want to take a trip up to the corner 7-11. Dragging myself out of the pool, I dry off and go with him to the summertime consumer mecca. Beef jerky. String cheese. Fifty-cent "Big Bite" hot dogs (potentially lethal, but they taste good). And, of course, the holy grail of summer drinks - the Slurpee. We head home with these goodies, the refreshing nature of our banana- and Pepsi-flavored slurpees relaxing us to the point that we don't argue or hit each other the whole way home.

By the time we get back, it's almost five and time for dinner. That means Dad is home. We're in for a lecture. So Tony and I sit there at the dinner table, listening to Dad semi-yell at us about getting off our lazy butts this summer. After dinner, it's back to the couch where we watch the Tigers' game and crack open a few beers. By 10 p.m., we're both wasted and ...

Wait a minute. I'm sorry. That's a memory from this past week when I was home, not from my childhood. I guess being home brought back that feeling of my lazy, carefree childhood. But now I'm back in Ann Arbor, pouring my own cereal and looking for a job. Too bad picking up the dog's crap isn't an option anymore.

- If you would like Chris Langrill to pick up your dog's crap, he can be reached at sircml@umich.edu

05-26-98