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slippery rock gAzette
August 2022|23
  “Freedom is never more than one generation away from extinction. We didn’t pass it to our children in the blood- stream. It must be fought for, protected, and handed on for them to do the same.” – Ronald Regan
August is the Ideal Month for Procrastinators
 Here are a few of the things I associate with August: Heat, humidity, sweat, bugs, thunderstorms, weeds.
Sam Venable
Department of Irony
crawlies in swarms that rival a biblical plague.
Abrupt lightning, wind and tor- rents of rain always are possi- ble—at noon or midnight and all points between.
And even the Kelly-greenest of spring lawns can mutate into a crabgrass jungle right before your eyes.
So? Ain’t no biggie.
In August, you can play any cards Mother Nature deals because you know the game isn’t over. Don’t fold, just keep bluff- ing a little longer. The jackpot awaits.
There’s no rush about August. It lets us mark time — or tread water in a pool, stream or lake, as the case may more accurately be.
August is a procrastinator’s dream. Trust the Crown Prince of Procrastination.
Whatever you were supposed to do, but didn’t, in June and July is ancient history now and doesn’t matter.
Conversely, September and October are well into the future— much too distant to fret about what you’re supposed to do, and probably won’t, when they finally arrive.
If I were commissioned to draw the official seal and motto of August, I’d be tempted to heist the image of the late, great Mad mag- azine’s Alfred E. Neuman and his signature “What, Me Worry?” logo. Instead, a simple sketch of shrugged shoulders overlain with “Meh! Pfft!” would suffice.
Well, yes; to be truly official, “Meh! Pfft!” should be spelled in Latin. That’s something I need to look up in a Latin-English dictio- nary. I’ll get around to it some- time. No need to break a sweat right now.
In fact, I’m going to cease typ- ing. It’s 10:15 p.m., the per- fect quitting time for an evening writer, a time that bears a paral- lel theme with August: Too late to keep chiseling, too early for bed. It is the perfect time to pour a taste of old vine red and repair to the screened breezeway to enjoy my nightly concert of a billion katydids singing in unison and a
    Given that bleak lineup, it’s natural to assume August is my least-favorite page of the calen- dar, right?
Heavens, no!
August ranks close to the top. That’s because August — like favored-status November and May—is a transitional month, a blend of old and new.
Summer certainly isn’t over. Autumn certainly isn’t here. It’s just, well, August. And the livin’ sho’ is easy.
Yes, August can be hot as a blowtorch, sticky as Gorilla tape, sweatier than a sauna.
It can deliver mosquitoes, horseflies, yellowjackets, ticks, chiggers and other vile creepy-
handful of tree frogs performing individually.
I’ll never tire of this music. It always reminds me of August.
Sam Venable is an author, comedic entertainer, and humor columnist for the Knoxville (TN) News Sentinel. His latest book is “The Joke’s on YOU! (All I Did Was Clean Out My Files).” He may be reached at sam.venable@ outlook.com.
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