On the 27th of August TechAmerica successor to American Electronics Association had an end of summer party where several of our high tech companies also had booths. Despite the uncharacteristic heat that close to the ocean, the energy level of the attendees, many dressed in Hawaiin shirts was awesome. Do not underestimate the entrepreneurial spirit of Californians, regardless of the budget mess we find ourselves in. Were are to some extent escpecially on Rose Bowl Parade Days blessed with an endless summer and how fitting to have a herald to record. Hope you enjoy.
In the Mid and Northwest and New England anxious glances to the clouds in graying skies,
Waves of leafy color from the north creeping slowly south as the summer begins to die,
The crowds along the beaches might be the same in number, but a subtle change,
Less people in the water as the temperature moves slowly into a lower range,
Shorts, sandals, sunscreen, sunhats now hard to find, in very short supply,
Winter clothes creeping into the aisles, as the summer begins to die.
The days turn shorter and the mornings herald soon the taste of frost,
Soon school bells tolling for the summer dying and soon lost,
In the Golden State, our days much more slowly become a little short,
But on close exam our summer is eternal, it does not abort,
Our schools are filling up but clad in shorts and usually a mellow tan,
Heads moving up and down to the beat of waves upon the sand,
Our beaches are still full of swimmers in frolic near the shore,
No arctic force can close even so slightly the summer door,
Even if perchance the temperature does drop and our mountains clad in snow,
Our beaches are of summer sand and waves, no winter seeds can grow,
Endless summer of friends and family who can relax when the work day is done,
And stroll in tranquil thoughts, feet ocean kissed and eyes awash in the setting sun.
We are the Golden State; we may be one of the chosen tribes,
A land of dreams, the will to succeed, always moving, never to subside.
This may in the lands of seasons come as quite a shock,
But to us with 49er blood, it is almost too grok,
In such an endless summer, freed of winter’s frosty grave,
Hope remains eternal; there is always yet another wave.
© Michael P. Ridley
August 27, 2009