Those Lazy Hazy Crazy Days of Summer - The Egg Man

NUTRITION 101

Anne Manion RD, CDE   http://www.prioritynutritioncare.com/

For some of us, the tune that accompanies the 60's favorite crooned by Nat King Cole awakens memories of slower, more relaxed times when the happenings of the day were not overwhelmed by the 24 hour news cycle.

Roll out those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer
Those days of soda and pretzels and beer
Roll out those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer
Dust off the sun and moon and sing a song of cheer
Just fill your basket full of sandwiches and weenies
Then lock the house up, now you’re set
And on the beach you’ll see the girls in their bikinis
As cute as ever but they never get ‘em wet
Roll out those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer
Those days of soda and pretzels and beer
Roll out those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer
You’ll wish that summer could always be here   

Written by Hans Bradtke; Hans Carste; Charles Tobias

On sultry Friday afternoons during the summer, my grandmother, my cousins, and my grandfather, who was getting ready to go to work as a carpenter at Jordan Marsh on the corner of Summer and Winter Streets in Boston on the evening shift, anticipated the weekly visits of John Carl, who we called The Egg Man.  The shades were lowered and one fan whirred, the kitchen darkened by the drawn shades to keep it cool.  When The Egg Man got to my grandparents' house, it seemed as if he stayed for hours.  He sat in what we now know as a Kennedy rocker. It had a straight back and was right against the wall.  He was the center of attention.  In retrospect, I wonder when he visited his other customers.  I have no recollection of him bringing in cartons of eggs or any of the fresh fruits and vegetables from his station wagon, seemingly overflowing with them, but he must have.

My cousins and I were usually outside all day on those lazy, hazy days.  We were typically in the back yard, replete with two shanties, (now known as sheds), a fire barrel, and a grapevine with benches and a special swing beneath, where young and old alike loved to gather, or in the playground next door playing games like tag, Red Rover, jump rope, jacks, hide and seek, bike riding, or making gimp bracelets and pot holders.  I have no recollection of going inside to eat or of staying inside to watch television.  On rainy days we traipsed to the Boston Children’s Museum (a couple of miles away at the time) or to the train or streetcar to go the Museum of Science or the Museum of Fine Arts, where admission cost a dime.   We walked everywhere, with no parents in tow.  We never stopped moving, and we were always on foot. 

The Egg Man is a metaphor for the days before technology when we, adults and children alike, got our exercise from our activities of daily living and before we spent many of our waking hours talking or worrying about what we put in our mouths and the remaining hours in a stationary position, working or playing with an electronic device.  Times have changed.  Every now and then, we might benefit from not worrying about the cholesterol in the eggs and from having some soda and pretzels and beer. (Albeit diet soda, whole wheat pretzels, and lite beer).   

Listen ”Those Lazy Hazy Crazy Days of Summer”

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