I don’t think there is any change of season that gets people more excited than summer to fall.
Winter to spring is pretty good too, but it doesn’t have the same perks that come with this time of the year. The start of football season. Pumpkin spiced lattes. Crisp weather. Colorful foliage. Flannel shirts.
I for one will not miss stepping outside and sweating through my shirt within a matter of seconds.
There’s always that one day each year when you go outside, pause for a moment, breathe in the cool, fresh air and say, “fall has come.” Today may have very well been that day.
But whatever you do, please refrain from calling it “autumn.” That word is reserved for college students studying postmodern literature who won’t realize how douchy they are for another six years. It’s fall.
It begs the question — why is there no fall Olympics? I’d be absolutely thrilled to see a leaf blower competition between countries, or a fencing match using rakes instead of swords. I think I’m onto something here. We can call it the Falympics.
What can I say — it’s a slow news days. There’s only so many humorous spins you can put on the migrant crisis, and I certainly don’t care enough about model Chrissy Teigen’s declaration that she would never hire a “hot nanny” to babysit her children.
Seriously, what is the purpose from a male’s perspective of even having a baby if you’re not going to hire a hot nanny?
So let’s all revel in the awesomeness that is fall. Although there is one seasonal cliche that I have long criticized, and still find a hard time buying into — apple picking.
That this is an activity people enjoy doing still boggles my mind. I don’t mean to sound misogynistic, but I feel like there’s some inferior gene in women’s brains that causes them to enjoy apple picking. As in, it’s not really their fault. It’s just a genetic defect.
And if any one knows about genetic defects, it’s me.
But hey, at least I’ll forever be known as the man who coined the Falympics.