Right now it's 28 degrees, sunny with a light breeze. It couldn't be a more perfect day on the island. Yet when I went to the post office this morning, Mr. Saito said, "It's hot!" When I stopped by the supermarket, Mrs. Amano, the store owner said, "It's hot!" When I stopped by the ferry port, Mrs. Amano, the port manager said, "It's hot!" No one has noticed that it actually isn't hot. That's because they're speaking "Summer Japanese."
Summer Japanese has nothing to do with the temperature. It has everything to do with the season. Signs of summer are everywhere: The ants have started holding their regular conventions in my sink, insect legs and lizard tails are lying around the house that the cat has dismembered from her victims, and the first centipede just tickled my foot. All because it's summer.
Summer Japanese is like a cold pizza. Remember when the pizza delivery person arrived with pizza, and your mother would take it and then announce, "Let's hurry up and eat before it gets cold!" As if the pizza was going to shed it's double cheese right there and start shivering. There probably wasn't even snow in the forecast. But still, you rushed to eat the pizza before it got "cold."