It’s 1995 and it’s summer, and you’re in the jeep going twenty over. The radio is playing but you’re only able to catch every few words of the lyrics, as the wind blowing in the open windows masks the rest. It’s perfect.
Can life get any better than this? you and your friends ask each other, not in words but in the looks you give as you ride towards the beach. It’s perfect.
But is it perfect? Has the world, for the better part of a decade, among which the takedown of the Evil Empire occurred, been cruising along in too much stagnation of perceived perfection? Is such a thing even possible?
It’s 2005. The world above ended, ultimately in 2001. However, similar vibes of riding with friends, in and against the wind, and towards the beach, can still be found.
But is that really where we’re headed? you ask each other, again with looks. The beach seems a brief reprieve, while doom increasingly appears to be the real destination. And the song lyrics, still sporadically heard, speak not to love lost or gained, but rather to possessions acquired.
When you arrive at the beach, it’s full—of emptiness.
It’s 2015 and the ride continues. But when you arrive, it’s clear that the day’s battle between gloom and sunshine has been won by legions of clouds and rain. You sit in the car and listen to the lyrics in full. A storm rages in the distance, with you and sand as its only audience.
You think forward ten years and wonder about that “stagnant perfection” you never even got to experience.
It’s 2025. Does the storm still rage on? Or does it show signs of slowing down?—and if so, how do you create the summer of 2035?