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This time of year used to be a lot more exciting than it is now. The loss of luster could be explained, in part, by age -- no longer do I return to school each fall, hopeful of getting good teachers. My daughters still resume their education each autumn, but they're at remote universities, and though they sometimes get excited, well, it isn't as contagious as when they lived at home.
Beyond that, though, most of the annual fall excitement seems to have faded almost to invisibility.
For instance, who cares about the new car models any more? I can recall gazing into dealer showrooms, where mysterious draped shapes loomed, speculating for hours with my father as to whether the '60 Impala tail lights would continue the strange cat's-eye design of the '59, or perhaps those geniuses at General Motors would come up with something even stranger.
That is, I talked for hours. My dad usually grunted something about how all the cars looked alike, as opposed to the glory days of his youth with the hot Hudson Hornet, an aerodynamic Chrysler that resembled an inverted bathtup, and the vast improvement in public safety when that cheapskate Henry Ford replaced cable brakes with hydraulic brakes.
Now I understand what he meant. Except for the Plymouth Viper, they all look alike -- generic sedans and wagons, wholesome mini-vans, four-wheel-drive sport-utilities that will never leave the pavement, soft rounded comfortable pickups that seem to defeat the rugged essence of pickups.
And, to the seasonal point, these machines arrive throughout the year. More may arrive in September, for all I know, but I'm long past caring, and so is everyone I know.
Another fall fizzle: the Miss America Pageant. Everybody used to watch it. In the past week, though, I haven't heard anyone even mention the program, let alone comment about the new and improved swimsuit competition. The pageant isn't even important enough to attract pickets and demonstrators these days.
Why is this so? Perhaps because one can now turn to dozens of new channels if he wants to observe attractive young women in scanty attire.
Which brings up another September slump -- the new TV schedule. Believe it or not, there was a time when it mattered what programs were on which nights, and the arrival of new fall programs on the three networks was eagerly awaited after a summer of reruns.
Now, though, it's sort of like cars. New programs arrive all the time, so there's nothing special about September -- Sweeps Weeks scattered through the year are more important.
Some people have probably even mastered the art of setting their VCRs to tape programs when they're doing something else, so the schedule doesn't matter to them anyway.
(Our resident experts at this dark art, as I mentioned
above, have gone off to college, leaving us with the
blinking 12:00.
Every time I get it set, the power
glitches within a day or two, and I'm back to where I
started. Couldn't the VCR makers install clock batteries,
the way computer makers do?)
Perhaps, though, these yearly rituals have their time come and go, and rather than bemoan their passing, we should devise some new ones, to wit:
Hypocrisy Sweepstakes: Congress returns from its summer recess. Senator Claghorn, who has sold himself to every lobby from Savings & Loan to Tobacco, piously accuses an Executive Branch Official of doing favors in return for campaign donations. Eventually, someone might get excited by this.
Rights Expansion Match: Thrill to the legal and
public-relations maneuvering to see how gets there first.
Will it be the operators who say we have a right
to
fly through the Grand Canyon? The citizens who want
guaranteed closure
of everything that happens to
them? The homeowners who demand that every governmental
action elevate their property values?
State Treasury Sprint: Who's going to with the race for the surplus? School districts that refuse to tax themselves? The Asphalt & Gravel Lobby which wants some highway contracts? The World-Class Resort Operation seeking a heated eight-lane Interstate 70?
Aspen Gridlock: By the end of the week, we should have a winner as to which mountain spot had the longest traffic jams for Colorado's fall-color viewers. I'm betting on U.S. 285 in the Bailey area, but Colo. 9 around Breckenridge is always a contender, as is the Peak-to-Peak Highway from Nederland to Estes Park.
All this shows that, if you look hard enough, you can always find something exciting in September, even if the traditional events no longer sparkle as brightly as they once did.
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