“There ain’t no cure for the summertime blues” ~ Eddie Cochran, 1958

            There is a disease which annually kills over 17 bajillion people every year*.  It strikes silently, often without visible symptoms, and can affect anyone, regardless of race, sex, or whether or not you live in Canada.  That disease is the Summertime Blues, and despite the fact that almost half a century has passed since Eddie Cochran first tried to raise public awareness about the threat posed by the Summertime Blues, scientists still have yet to find a cure.

            This is no doubt in part due to the fact that while diseases like AIDS, Parkinson’s, and that thing that Stephen Hawking has have all recently been brought to the public eye by celebrities who didn’t care about any of them either until they came down with them and decided that the most important thing in the world was to find a cure, no famous or pretty people have come down with the Summertime Blues and gotten into the whole fundraising scene.  My friends, it is time to change this sad state of affairs by joining the race for a cure.

            While it is true that there is no cure for the Summertime Blues, there are treatments, most of which involve a combination of electro-shock therapy, monkeys, watermelons, stolen hotel bath towels, and EZ Cheez, all of which are far too scientific and ridiculous to go into here.  With early detection and a generous slathering of unquestioned funding and those little flavor packets that come with ramen noodles, it is possible for many sufferers of the Summertime Blues, (or STB, as we in the abbreviation industry (or the AI) like to call it), but even the best that modern medicine has to offer falls far short of the goal of completely eradicating this horrible plague.

            No one is sure where the Summertime Blues first came from, though many geneticists are fairly confident that it has something to do with that time that Rick Moranis got turned into a devil dog.  Others, who are quite possibly just trying to stir things up, maintain that it first developed when American settlers briefly tried to use buffalo in place of orange juice.

            How can you help support the cause?  First, send me lots of money.  Lot’s of it.  Buy a teacupmammoths T-shirt, write me a check, carve me one of those big stone wheels they used to use for currency in Indonesia before they went over to the Euro, whatever, as long as it’s shiny and I can trade it for beer.  If you want, I can even send you some pictures of adorable children from 3^rd world countries.  Sadly, raising a fuss and a holler, and writing to your congressman will not work, nor will taking your problem to the United Nations, since North Korea, Sudan,  and Djibouti all sit on the Council of Silly Ailments, and all three of them think you’re a big poophead.

            Wearing a ribbon would probably help, because if there’s one thing that diseases and international terrorists fear more than any other, it’s a colorful magnet stuck to the back of your car.  Unfortunately, the color blue is already taken, and if you tried to go around wearing a blue ribbon, you would at best be taken for the winner of the regional hog-calling contest, and at worst be sued by PBR.  The black ribbon already belongs to fighting melanoma, and supporting anarchy and the Amish, so it’s right out too.  Orange is always nice, but it’s already been taken by feral cats and Ukrainian independence, so no help there either.  Silver is the ribbon for supporting the abuse of the elderly, and I like to think that we opposers of the Summertime Blues are better than that, so it’s no good either.  In fact, the only color ribbon that’s still free is apricot with magenta polka dots and the Decepticon symbol in the middle, so by process of elimination, that’s the one we have to go with.

            So yeah, join the fight against the Summertime Blues today, because together, we can build a more awesomer tomorrow.  Do it for the children.

            *This number is based on a combination of demographic surveys, CDC tabulations, ingredient lists on cereal boxes, and the fact that a bajillion is a fun number to say.  Bajillion, bajillion, bajillion.  I feel better now.