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My Summer Day Told With the Help of My Favorite Summer Songs

Written by Morgan Paynter

This summer I was given the chance to live in Hawaii and care for my mom's house and our dog as she fulfills a work obligation. This entry highlights most everything I do in a day and the songs I like to think accompany those actions.

Spotify link to follow along:

5:00 a.m.
A wet, frustrated nuzzle at your arm alerts you that it's time for your dogs morning walk. The only soundtrack appropriate for this drowsy summer morning is the lyrical stylings of SZA on her debut CTRL album. Your dog is now torso deep in the neighbor’s hedge inspecting the morning critters. His anthem is “Pretty Little Birds” and he’s the only one that still tolerates your raving about this album a year after its release date. You elect for more fitting tunes like “Garden” or your personal favorite, “Supermodel”. The heavy rhythmic beats and hypnotic melodies of this album provide a jumbo schmood. However, you just made a big mistake by listening to music on the walk because now your dog is chomping on a jacked chicken bone. By the grace of “The Weekend - Funk Wav Remix” and promising puppy treats, you make it up the hill and reach the finish line.

8:30 a.m.
Dreams of your summer body compel you to reach for the oatmeal this morning. Speaking of dreams, some Fleetwood Mac would work nicely to aid the morning progression of a newly blue sky and the awakening of your worst enemy, the mosquito. You attempt to channel the white witch herself, Stevie Nicks, as you sit in the overgrown grass and play “Rhiannon”. The half assembled furniture in your yard tries its best to soil the mood though. Your dog is back, he hasn’t had enough attention this morning. He greets you with garbage scented affection and a swift lick of your face. Moments later, Spotify is down and you resort to a youtube playlist. You’re impressed that the first track is “She’s a Rainbow” by the Stones because it reminds you of the only underwear you have at home for the summer; a Limited Too pair with a peeling graphic of a monkey sitting on a rainbow. Not even possible. Next up is Carly Simon’s “You’re so Vain”, an ode to why you shouldn't brush your hair in the summer and that’s a wrap on breakfast.

12:15 p.m.
Gym time means you can allow your ear palette to indulge in pumping beats. The new A$AP Rocky album is your go-to. Songs like “Purity”, “Praise the lord”, and “A$AP Forever” help to drown out the groans of nearby dads. Oh no, “Powerglide” just came on and it sends rage coursing through your veins, allowing you to push that treadmill speed to new heights.

Lunch time inspires a new soundtrack. Something about a teriyaki chicken breast and white rice elicits the need to listen to mellow indie rock bands TV Girl and No Vacation. You move the ever growing pile of dirty dishes to the side as you prepare to grub up a new set. Would it really be cooking rice if a few individual grains don’t spill on the hot stove top? Wonderful. The burning smell fills your nostrils as you brace for the traumatic fire alarm that is soon to follow. Not today, exclaims “Lovers Rock”, your favorite song off the album. You plate the delicacies and tuck in as your dog watches, his mouth making itself at home on your knee.

The sun climbs to it highest point of the day and you reflect on one of the most iconic parcels of pop culture to ever grace our lifetimes. Riff Raff, in concert with Sublime’s “Santeria”, asserts “SUMMMERRRTIIMMMMEEEE”. This can only mean you head to the nearest body of water your location will allow. On your way to the beach you have a couple ditties in the queue. “Amber” by 311, “Is this love” by Bob Marley, and “Big Love” by Chicken to name a few. To further nurture that big tropical mood, you roll down all the windows. Receipts and lose papers dart around and obstruct your vision. You promptly roll the windows up, that sucked. You pull up on the scene and “Nana” by polo and pan vibrates through the speakers. You do your best to peel your sweaty legs off the leather seats.

You take an entire five minutes laying down your towel. A combination of the brutal sandblasting and the sunscreen in your eyes hinders your progress. The locals stare. “Break Stuff” by Limp Bizkit is the only appropriate song when faced with frustration, and that’s universally applicable. Anyways, a summer day cannot be called such without the dreamy vocals of Lana Del Rey. “Carmen” and “Shades of Cool” do wonders to juxtapose the absolute carnage that is people being put in the spin cycle by the double overhead waves. After realizing you got sand in the jacket of your public library book, “Summertime Sadness” plays and it’s time to leave. Your whole ride home is consumed with the thought of how the Kapolei Public Library will ever manage to forgive you.

The evening wraps up and as you prepare to have either a handful of nuts or a nap for dinner you play some moody music. “The Killing Moon”, “Biking”, and “Summer Breeze” (the Type O Negative version, that is) are among your favorites. You facetime your boyfriend who lives 4,000 miles away and you play “West End Girls” through your Echo back in Iowa City. It scares him, but its endearing because you both slap to the song without fail. The sun sets and your dog starts barking at you. He wants to go upstairs to bed and since you live to serve him, you do. Tune in tomorrow for the exact same thing.