Summer has finally arrived

It’s here. I think. Summer, that is. It’s a little late, but it’s

here.

As you well know, June 21 -- the summer solstice, more or less --

is the official start of summer. Solstice is an ancient Druid word

that means the official start of summer. To laymen like yourselves,

it’s known as the longest day of the year.

But to us scientists, it is the day when the declination of the

sun ... well, in relation to the Earth’s orbit, the sun is actually,

I should say, the Earth is, well ... it’s the longest day of the

year, OK? Geez. It is so hard to explain things to you people.

Anyway, this week left no doubt that the summer that refused to

start, finally did. The June Gloom -- which was actually the

April-May-June Gloom this year -- finally got over itself and let the

sunshine, which was a song from “Hair” or, if you’re a Gershwin fan,

the livin’ is easy, the fish are jumpin’, and the cotton is high. I

never understood the fish part. Can they jump?

This year it seemed as if summer decided to make July 4 its

opening day instead of June 21. It’s good to be Mother Nature. You

can do whatever you want, whenever you want.

Speaking of July 4, it went pretty well, no? Everyone seemed to

have fun and the fireworks were back at the Dunes, as well they

should be. I thought the show at Mesa Verde Country Club was the best

ever, and the increased police presence in West Newport seemed to

have the hoped-for calming effect.

Of course, the tripling of the fines for noisy, drunken,

thoroughly obnoxious behavior didn’t hurt either. The city

established a “safety enhancement zone,” euphemistically speaking, in

West Newport, from midnight Friday to 3 a.m. Saturday.

On Friday night, about 55 revelers had to have their safety

enhanced, most of them having been over-served with various Fourth of

July commemorative beverages. That’s a big reduction compared to

recent years and there seemed to be general agreement that the new

Fourth of July rager-regs were a good thing.

“I’m having a great time,” said Emily Edmunds, 30. “It reminds me

of New Orleans and Pacific Beach.”

Hmm. That may or not be a good thing. I can’t speak for Pacific

Beach, but I think Mardi Gras in the Big Easy was sort of what the

city has been trying to avoid.

I also think there was a renewed interest, even a sense of

renewal, in the Fourth this year. I suspect part of it is an

increased awareness of and interest in who we are and what we stand

for, given what’s going on around the world these days.

People are also becoming more neighborhood-oriented all the time,

which is a good thing. In Mesa del Mar, they celebrated the Big

Birthday U.S.A. with their first, and hopefully annual, Fourth of

July parade.

No floats, no bands, no 4-story balloons, just kids and parents

and a few dogs in makeshift costumes, making their way down the

street on foot and bikes and wagons, festooned with as many flags and

as much red, white and blue as possible. Very cool. Speaking of very

cool, lets get back to the April-May-June Gloom. This could be

serious.

There was a brief, unassuming, innocent-looking article in this

very publication not long ago with a bombshell of a lead: “Tired of

all the clouds? Researchers suggest the coast may be in for 25 years

of foggy weather.” Wowski.

Apparently, the Pacific Ocean -- which is the large one just to

west of us -- has been cooling off steadily since the El Nino years

of 1998 and 1999. When things start to warm up in the spring, and the

warmer air from land drifts out to the ocean throughout the day,

those damp, gray nights and mornings that you thought would never end

this year become the rule and not the exception.

According to a number of weather deep-thinkers who are paid to

think deep thoughts about the weather, the current cycle could last

up to 25 years, which is a long time. Steve LaDochy and Bill Patzert,

who are researchers at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory in Pasadena,

have been all over this thing like flypaper. According to LaDochy,

“Patterns vary, especially after leaving the warm phase of the ‘90s.

This cool phase encourages June gloom.” Thanks, doc.

In a statement that could easily pass muster at the State

Department, Newport Beach Chamber of Commerce president Richard

Luehrs said, “If June gloom were to worsen, there would probably be a

diminished tourist and general beachgoer population.” Which means, if

the next few springs are as gloomy as this one, the beach business

goes in the tank.

“The ‘80s to ‘90s were wetter, warmer and clearer,” said Bill

Patzert. “We’ve now reverted forward to the past.” I’m not sure what

“reverted forward to the past” means either, but I think it’s what

happens to “gone back to the future” when you’re a scientist at JPL.

According to the boys in Pasadena, this spring’s London-like weather

was much the same from the mid-50’s to the 70’s in Newport-Mesa, and

there was a lot less hot fun in the summertime (Sly & The Family

Stone, 1969) at the beach. So how do you like that? All this time we

just thought it was gloomy weather, but it turns out to be some

global, when-air-masses-collide phenomenon that could last 25 years.

It’s a funny old world. Complicated too. I gotta go.

* PETER BUFFA is a former Costa Mesa mayor. His column runs

Sundays. He may be reached by e-mail at PtrB4@aol.com.