Summertime, The Sundays, 1997
Me and my big brown eyes still believe in fairytale love stories. Yes, that's the real me, y'all. I'm a 53-year-old sillyheart dreamer. Maybe that's why The Sundays' brand of a love song, Summertime, has been all up in my head space this week. This song ringing in my ears has catapulted me straight to cloud nine where I'm hopelessly pining for my prince charming to ride up on his white horse and sweep me off my feet.
Calm down, of course I jest. Good grief, friends -- do you not know me at all? Me buying into a fairytale love story? Be serious. I'm way too jaded to be that girl. Right?
It's true, though, Summertime is a love song written just for me. It's laced in sarcasm and mockery. Surprise, surprise -- I love this song. I love The Sundays. When I hear The Sundays, I think of Harriett (Wheeler) and David (Gavurin) -- bandmates turned soulmates. When I hear Summertime, I laugh because I imagine them both laughing while writing this folly of a love song while actually living a more perfect version of a love song.
Harriett and David's love story is fantasy adjacent for me -- bandmates falling in love while in the thrall of the muse? Yes, please. I'll buy that all day and all night.
My next true love will surely find me someday. Have I read too much fiction? It's you and me in the summertime.
Happy Saturday!
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