I love the summertime. I always have.  Some of my earliest thoughts of summer are rooted in Tennessee, Alabama, and Texas.  My dad worked in the aircraft industry, which moved us all over the south.  Eventually, Dad’s work moved us to Phoenix, Arizona, where a whole new world opened up to all of us. 

Regardless of where we lived and no matter how stoked I was for school to let out for the summer, there eventually came the problem that settles on kids out for the summer: boredom. A lot of the kids in my various neighborhoods played baseball.  I tried that out one summer and quickly realized that sports and I just didn’t have any interest in each other. As I got older, the closest I came to enjoying sports was admiring the high school pom and cheer squad from afar.

But that’s another story for another time. Back to summer.

While my friends played baseball in the streets and parks of our area, I spent a lot of time reading.  As a third and fourth grader in Alabama, I read books on the Civil War (how is war “civil”?  Just wonderin’ . . .) and on Bonnie and Clyde (I know. Weird combination but, hey, that’s me). 

After we moved to Arizona, my interests quickly shifted to the history of the southwest.  Tremendous stories about Cochise and Geronimo, the O.K. Corral, the heritage of the various Indian tribes of the area and, my favorite, the Lost Dutchman Gold Mine, consumed my free summer hours.  I checked out every good book in the school and public libraries and, when I had saved enough money, bought a few of my own.

One of my elementary school mentors was Coach Jack Allen at Maryland Elementary.  He took interest in this dopey kid with a funny southern accent who had an intense interest in southwest history.  He fueled and expanded my interests in the subject by showing me his own personal library at that packed (and I do mean “packed”) his garage. He guided me in my purchases and even arranged an introduction or two to some noted authors in that genre. Since then, while I still have an interest in southwest history, my interests have since expanded to encompass all sorts of areas.

I can’t imagine a world – my world – without the ability read, let alone read well.  I’ve personally witnessed adults who have even have degrees that can hardly read and I wonder how that can even happen.  I have to think that it goes back to when they were kids and didn’t have the interest to read – and read well – kindled inside of them.

I don’t have to encourage you to read because, obviously, if you’re reading my usual offering of tripe, you’re a reader of some sort.  I hope that, as a reader, you encourage others – adults and kids but especially kids – to read.  There are thousands of subjects that can be explored and fire up the imagination of a kid.  They can dream incredible dreams and plan huge exploits of all kinds if they read.  Anything is possible if one can read.

If you have some spare time that you would like to occupy by doing something worthwhile, you might explore volunteering to help others learn to read.  Most cities and counties around the United States as well as cities around the world have programs that are in desperate need of volunteers to help kids and adults alike learn to read. If you’re interested in helping, look up those worthy organizations in your area.

By helping others to learn to read, you’ll help cure their summertime blues as well as your own.