Despite growing concern, by family and friends, over summer wind, Steve Whispy’s apparent lack of ambition and direction, Whispy continues to breeze through life like it’s all just a bright, sunny summer day. Recently spotted softly whispering through the oak tree branches in Humpleberry Park, Steve’s laissez-faire attitude has many hitting the panic button.
“We didn’t raise him this way,” said his father, Bruce, a strong north wind from upper Canada, “if his mother was still alive she would never had stood for this.” Steve’s mom, a low pressure system out of the Pacific, who was killed by a high pressure system over Iowa in early two thousand and four, had high hopes for her son. “She used to tell me he was going to be a gale, or even a tornado. Hell, sometimes when she’d had a little too much tropical moisture, she’d even say that Steve could one day be a hurricane. Goddamn I miss her.”
Steve, who’s top wind speed has never been more than five miles per hour, can often be found lightly caressing the cheeks of lovers, or wistfully tossing the hair of new born babes at a picnic. “Hey man, I’m just living, you know,” said Steve as he playfully blew through a field of dandelions, under the warm summer sun, “I don’t want to be like my Dad, I just want to do my own thing.”
“He never used to be like this,” said April Showers, a long-time friend, “I remember this one time, I had a really bad day, and I was raining pretty hard, Steve came blowing in with such a strong wind I could have sworn he was a gust. I just wish he’d realize that he’s going nowhere with this whole summer breeze thing.”
“Hey, I’ve got some stuff going on, okay,” said Steve while lightly ruffling the American flag hanging over City Hall. “I’m thinking about heading down to the Caribbean and maybe trying my luck as a sea breeze, or even a bay breeze. I just wish everyone would get off my wind about this, jeez, sometimes I wish I was just a wildfire or maybe a tsunami, that sounds nice.”
As Steve spiritedly tromped along the sidewalks and storefronts of main street, stirring thin summer dresses and arousing smiles and laughter; a wanderer, lost in lethargic inertness, enfolded in summer’s loving embrace, Steve did have a poignant moment of remembrance. “As I was flitting around sandwich boards and open storefronts today I thought of my mom. She was pretty badass, I guess she wanted more from me. I just hope that wherever she is, she’s looking down on me and realizes, this is who I am.”
It is being reported that in an effort to force Steve to understand how the real world works, Bruce has kicked him out of the house, leaving Steve to fend for himself. “He’s either going to grow a set of gusts or he’s going to simply dissipate under the summer’s crushing heat. Either way, I can’t abide what he’s become.”
It is being reported that an unconcerned Steve has been crashing on friends' couches, blowing around the park and apparently has big plans to start a weather system and get famous.