Newspaper article The Record (Bergen County, NJ)

I'm Clinging to Summer, for Very Shellfish Reasons

Newspaper article The Record (Bergen County, NJ)

I'm Clinging to Summer, for Very Shellfish Reasons

Article excerpt

At the top of every column I write, I type three things. My name. A summary of what the column is about. And the date.

The first two are easy. The date disturbs me. Like when I sat down to write this column and wrote "8-24-14."

The 24th of August?


Are you kidding me?

Technically, we have another whole month of summer. (Well, almost.)

Still, if you're in school, or live with someone who's in school, or ever went to school at any point in your life, you know that what most of us consider to be summer is just about over.

Finished. Kaput. And that's when the panic sets in.

Suddenly, conversations shift from sun, sand and SPFs to sweaters, book covers and pumpkins.

Interestingly, most people I know have been saying for years that "autumn is my favorite time of year."

And they usually say this in August, when it's hot and sticky and every item of food on their deck is covered with yellow jackets.

But this hasn't been that kind of August. (Well, except for the yellow jackets.) Not too hot, too sticky, or too anything.

It's been more like the Baby Bear of Augusts: just right.

And that makes the panic a bit more intense, because even though I love autumn, too, I know it's just a matter of time before I'll be raking leaves, planning my Thanksgiving sides and bracing for six or seven hundred inches of snow.


Perhaps that is why, as Labor Day inches ever closer, many of us look back on June, July and August to make sure we did everything we were supposed to.

And as I did that, a few days ago, I realized that even though I did the pool, did the beach, did the hot dogs, did the picnic, did the block party and did the six or seven hundred strawberry daiquiris, I did NOT do the lobsters.


Ever since I was a kid, I've loved lobsters. Maybe it's because my zodiac sign is the crab. Or maybe it's because I'm Italian.

Italians, generally, love shellfish. Clams, mussels, crabs, you name it.

I can still remember the summer of 1979 when the first "Alien" movie came out. Everyone screamed when the monster tore through John Hurt's chest and ran across the room, except for the Italians, who thought, "I bet I could make a nice sauce with that thing . …

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