Uneasy Rhetoric

Is it me, or is autumn in the air this August? The wind brings with it a hint of coolness, the leaves are sounding drier, and the shadows are longer. The days are still warm, but at night the Delta breeze, often a relief from the heat, now conjures images of long-sleeve shirts and adult beverages without ice. I’m starting to eye my roof gutters and wondering how many weeks until I have to clean them.

This is fiction, of course. We all know that in Sacramento, as in Camelot, summer lingers through September, and frequently loiters into October. But will this summer pass quietly into autumn, creating fond memories of the heat we hate to love and letting the fog in the door on its way out? Or will it drunkenly refuse to leave, screaming at the bartender until he relents and gives it another round of vodka and Red Bull, and us another round of triple-digits?

Winter has its Punxsutawney Phil to answer questions about its future. Perhaps summer needs a mascot.

I propose Sacramento Sam, a squirrel that lives in Capitol Park. Like the paradoxical Punxsutawney Phil, who predicts more winter when he sees his shadow, Sam will predict a loitering summer when he chooses to bury a ceremonial walnut rather than eat it.

September 2nd can be “Squirrel Day.” One of the few remaining fields of green in Capitol Park would be given over to the media, who would all have their cameras and microphones and notepads and well-coiffed spokespeople anxiously trained on a hole in a tree at the edge of the field.

Sam would emerge and a reverent silence would fall over the crowd. The mayor or a chosen representative (a child who won an essay contest - “What I will do with my additional six weeks of summer if Sam buries his nut”) would walk alone onto the field. Sam would rear up on his hind legs and watch the approaching figure greedily. The child would hand him the nut, and he would do his thing.

Depending on his actions, the crowd would burst into a rendition of “Hey Hey Hey, Good Bye” or “Summer Lovin’.”

In anticipation of Squirrel Day, the city could have a squirrel festival where it highlights all the benefits of a hot summer (lazy days on the river, dining al fresco, scantily clad…uh, yeah). Day camps or first-day-of-school curricula could be established where children learn about energy conservation, drinking plenty of fluids, and sunscreen from perky, underpaid CSUS students in squirrel costumes.

Commerce would balloon as local entrepreneurs developed a whole new set of souvenir t-shirts, pens, shot glasses, coffee mugs, and other paraphernalia to complement (replace?) the Kings gear. Hotels would fill because people would have a reason to visit Sacramento in the summer.

And Sacramento would have one more cultural institution to its credit. Come this September 2nd, consider the squirrel.