I’d like to take a moment to give June the credit that June deserves. Typically, June deserves very little credit. Take last year, for instance. June was miserable and petulant, unwilling to cooperate with our summery expectations. When those expectations gave way to our demands, June relented, but only at the very end of its reign, and even at that, just barely. This past June was amazing. Sunny, warm, clear. Heck, even on our hot days we cooled into the evening and when the sun set the breeze would stir, just like it’s supposed to. June, I see you from this early date in July and I thank you.
We can’t, however, fail to recognize what a mess June was when considering anything except the perfect weather and the perfect Lake Geneva vacation home market. The country is in disarray, this much is obvious. There are masked protesters beating up unmasked protesters, people tearing down statues and others protecting them. There are flags being waved and others being burned. This is a disaster, to be certain. But there is one thing that remains true and right in spite of the disgruntled challengers. This is an amazing country. It’s popular opinion right now to bemoan this place. To see it as a once mighty nation under justified attack from its own citizens, to view it as a doomed experiment. Hopelessness is cool. Ambivalence is hip. Even the Canadiens are making fun of us, which is embarrassing, but don’t worry, I’m married to a Canadien, they aren’t as polite and perfect as the memes would have you believe.
In spite of this miserable period of civil unrest and cancel culture, one thing is certain: We are blessed. Where else can we protest and burn and flail and scream and then return to our comfortable homes and scroll through instagram? While our neighbors and friends and the strangers in big cities struggle two figure out why they’re so angry, the sun rises and sets in Lake Geneva, just as its supposed to. The boats cruise and the swimmers swim and the kids jump from piers and the sailboats unfurl their sails. Everything is at once awful and perfect, and that might explain the remarkable strength of the Lake Geneva market this year. If we’re going to be miserable, shouldn’t we at least be miserable in a much nicer place? If we’re going to feel so much turmoil, shouldn’t we be able to jump in the lake when we get a bit too hot? If the world around us feels like everything we know is wrong, shouldn’t we just go where everything feels right?
The answer is yes. This is a great place. This is a great country. Celebrate them both this weekend. Raise the flag. Salute it. Be thankful for it. This is a great life and none of us know how much of it is left. Let’s spend it being thankful and proud.