The Good Old Summertime

August and the number 20 trolley smells like humanity with a touch of ozone carried in on the wind that comes through the windows. The breeze is a blessing - August in the district is misery: a brutal combination of heat, humidity, and mosquitoes that, by comparison, almost make the company of the city's political inhabitants bearable. With the weekend comes liberation and a short ride north to a trolley park definitely is an antidote to summer-worn cares.

As the car bumps along, city blocks give way to cool woodlands. Soon the District is a memory; crossing into Maryland is like taking a cool shower. The car begins to slow and a invisible wave runs through the pre-teen set - some portion of the current that propels the trolley toward its destination has been diverted, just a large enough fraction to waken all the restlessness and excitement that's part of being a child. Somewhere just under the dower veil of adulthood the same excitement stirs, an echo of decades past that only becomes keener with each passing year.

The breeze flowing into the car has fallen to a gentle rush but even in its weakened state it carries harbingers of what lay ahead. The ozone smell has subsided to be replaced by the scent of popcorn and, with the rushing of wheels and wind out of your ears you hear the first evidence of your destination - a calipee jauntily playing t Souza. You collect your hat and jacket and wait for the aisle to clear.

Outside the air is a good dozen degrees cooler than it was on the platform back in the city. Some people talk about the concrete holding on to the heat of the sun and making city life akin to being a loaf in an oven but like everything dealing with weather those college intellects never seem to do anything about the issue. Talk just heats up the air that much more. From the trolley station you can see the gates proclaiming Glen Echo Park and heralding a slower, cooler place.

The sound of the carousel is louder inside the gates of the park - maybe the fence around the place marks off some kind of special boundary, a border inside which you lose twenty years of inhibitions. It mixes freely with the sounds of children laughing and playing. Worldly cares have no jurisdiction here. Past the parading, panted animals and the bumper car pavilion stands the old ballroom.

In the aging daylight, the red of the neon sign lends a salacious tint to the pavement. Beyond the gates kids are playing but every amusement park has a sense of the tawdry - fixed carnival games play at the edges of gambling. The ticket taker stamps you in and you leave the real world behind. Just down the curving path, passed the artist's yurts and the clamor of the bumper car pavilion stands the Spanish Ballroom and your destination for the evening. The crowd's already gathering and the above the clamor of voices and the blare of the calliope you can the band warming up.

Inside it's at least twenty degrees warmer. You can already feel the sweat trickling down your spine as you make your way through the crowds of chattering humanity hanging around the edges of the dance floor. The Spanish architecture seems appropriate in the humidity and heat of the night - there might as well be a bullfight tomorrow afternoon. You check your hat and stop to scope out the floor just as the band kicks off their first set.

A bouncy Fox Trot gets things rolling. Couples circulate by as a sampler of good and bad dance style, happy and serious faces, and then you see her. She's smiling politely but her eyes go to the floor shyly when they meet yours. The temperature jumps a couple of degrees - or maybe it's your heart pumping a little faster. You straighten your tie and try not to look like the neighborhood wolf as you approach.

She accepts your offer of a dance and her hand is soft and light. You lead the way onto the floor, slide an arm around her waist, and inhale the smell of springtime. The heat vanishes, the music softens, and your feet lift off the ground. A three minute dream is the best remedy for the heat. When the song ends summer will return but for the moment the weather's temperate and your heart is light.