Impression That I Get

Challenge #1 Sweet Summer Song: Pick a song that represents summer for you. Use the song as the title of your piece, and to inspire either a poem or a short story/micro fiction about summer. Feel free to use some of the song's lyrics in your piece as well. So what does summer feel like for you?

For the main James & Oneg Summer Writing Challenge Extravaganza, click here.

Ok so incidentally the hardest part of this whole thing was picking the song. When introduced to the challenge I got hung up on what a summer song actually was. To clarify after looking it up, a good candidate for a summer bop is something that is fast tempo but still elicits that chill mood. Certainly that fits right? Sure but, for any individual a summer song could mean a plethora of things. I'll use my own example here. One time many, many summers ago I distinctly remember acquiring the Digimon movie soundtrack (an old anime about battle monsters) yes I'm that old. I bought hard copy music. I remember so vividly picking out a track and playing it to death while participating in the solstice, with a carefree feeling only the 90s could bring (best decade ever, fight me). The track was Impression That I Get by The Mighty Mighty Bosstones. As it was, the song fit the haphazard explanation of a summer ditty to boot. Its upbeat ska trumpet blair and full band sound really set the mood for a full day of fun.

The song seemed to stay with me well past my Digimon phase, I began to admire the lyrics/meaning behind the melody. It provoked feelings beyond tragedy and how we process the heaviness of not knowing how to handle it if and when it happens, the story was cultivated behind these singled-out lyrics:

I've never had to knock on wood

But I know someone who has

Which makes me wonder if I could

I'm not a coward, I've just never been tested

I'd like to think that if I was I would pass

Look at the tested and think "There but for the grace go I"

Might be a coward, I'm afraid of what I might find out

Got me thinking about what would actually be considered a “coward test.” the following story is an explanation of that thought.

*side note, you don't need a heavy-laden explanation in your challenge piece. Just thought I do one just for a little more insight.

Coward Test

“Exposure therapy, being exposed to an object, environment, or situation that triggers fear or anxiety, by doing this repetitively and gradually the stress caused by the antagonizing factor will decrease significantly.”

Or at least that's what my shrink said.

“It'll really help you Mitch, I know it will.”

Well, I've got news for you doc, I don't have the luxury of gradually, and I'm not entirely sure what I’d expose myself to, considering I'm literally afraid of fucking everything.

“You're gonna be a dad, Mitch!” her eyes smiled as she said it. I loved how she did that. I gave myself a moment to admire her gentle features before the dread kicked in.

“That's wonderful honey.” was all I managed to eck out before the lump in my throat choked my words

“Let's fast-pace this shit,” I thought to myself.

I was going to bring a child into this world and I had t-minus 9 months to get my shit together.

So I did what I do best, take everything to the extreme.

I set my feast or famine persona on the task at hand

Exposure therapy was like a coward's test, right? Just gotta find the biggest one and pass it, the MCATS of fear. The BAR exam for anxiety

10,000 feet in the air strapped to a stranger white-knuckling the metal frame of the plane door. I had indefinitely decided this would suffice.

I really wish this aircraft wasn't made of composite aluminum, cause my superstitious ass would really like to knock on wood.

After 4 million panic attacks later and a troubling amount of intrusive thoughts, I thought to myself this was enough exposure. I'm ready to call it a day.

Apparently, my tandem jumper didn't get the mental memo. He thrust his hips hard enough for me to almost simultaneously puke and slip into the heavens. I wasn't ready, I don't want to.

The wind cut off all forms of verbal communication, I was hoping my thumping heart would que him off, no such luck, he thrust again, and instinctually I thrust back. He wasn't having it, for reasons known only to my abnormally heavy-breathing sky buddy; he wanted to see me soaring through the nothingness. After a furious battle of what looked like dirty dancing and team air humps, I had to succumb to the fact that I was going off the edge.

I closed my eyes, hoping to hear some insightful magic bullet words from my shrink, something that would help me in this oddly tumultuous situation. Nothing. Another voice echoes softly with just enough twang it could be called Southern.

“Listen, honey, sometimes you just have to take a leap of faith no matter how scary, you may land right where you need to.” the statement again exclaimed with those soulful brown peepers.

“But what if I get hurt?”

“But what if you fly?”

Each strained fingertip slipped from the thin cold steel as I gave way to fate.

Each time another digit slipped I begrudgingly reminisced on all my past fears, some so heavy I felt I would collapse in that moment and this. I'm leaving all my tragedies here on this small whistling aircraft; they don't belong in my new life

That last statement was enough of a distraction to send me airborne. The entirety of my internal organs were firmly placed in my chest as I soared through the roar of terminal velocity. Thank goodness for those funny pointy goggles because my eyes would have certainly disappeared into my skull. The moment was so utterly unreal I couldn't feel anything let alone fear.

Ungraciously dumped on my ass, in the middle of an open field. Despite all things I had to wonder if it had worked. Had I passed the coward test? I couldn't rightfully say at that moment I was still waiting for feeling to return to literally any inch of my body. For now, all was quiet including my self-deprecating voice so, it must have done something, or at least that's the impression that I get