— — Summer. Just uttering the word evokes thoughts of a cool breeze along a river or lake on a sultry day, a game of baseball, tossing a Frisbee, relaxing in a hammock or a cookout in the back yard.

It’s also the most popular time of year for reunions.

This month alone I was facing three: An official one, an unofficial one and one that was a reunion of sorts. I made it to the official one, but was disappointed not to achieve the trifecta.

My mom’s side of the family has a reunion every year. The first was held back in the 1980s to celebrate my grandmother’s 75th birthday, but it would be a few more years before it became an annual affair.

Our annual gatherings have been held in Scranton, Pa., Warwick, N.Y., Long Island, suburban Boston, East Aurora and Syracuse. Sometimes a cousin’s wedding serves as a reunion. This year’s affair was held Aug. 14 at my brother’s house in suburban Syracuse.

Sometimes the reunion attracts nearly every relative. Other years, attendance is light. This year was a lighter year. So was last year’s gathering. Despite the less-than-full-house, the reunion was fun and gave everyone involved a chance to catch up and share in everyone’s achievements of the past 12 months.

The highlight of the day occurred when five of us tried to give — as my brother-in-law Rick put it — “the Flying Wallendas a run for their money.” Our “act” involved an oversized beach ball being batted across the in-ground swimming pool as we each dived in.

We must have attempted this feat 30 times. My niece Veronica began the routine, sending the ball to Rick (her father) who was coming down the slide. Rick sent the ball across the pool to me. As I jumped in, I sent it across the pool to cousin Anthony, who finally returned it back across the water to my nephew Andrew.

The goal wasn’t so much to make it a successful five-for-five as it was to avoid cracking our heads together.

The spectacle prompted some of the other family members to take pictures or shoot video — I must remember to make a visit to You Tube — or simply cheer us on.

I know. We’re nuts. Feel free to say it.

A week earlier I had intended to travel to Herkimer for an unofficial reunion of roommates and friends from the house I lived in during my first two years of college. It had been planned for months, but was canceled a few weeks prior.

This was a big disappointment. I had lost touch with two roommates until we were reunited on the social networking website Facebook. I haven’t seen them in probably 15 years. Some of the others who planned on attending didn’t live there but were in the house so much we probably should have charged them rent.

Unfortunately some hard feelings disrupted the plans. In the end, the host broke a toe the week before the event and likely would have canceled it anyway.

C’est la vie. We still keep in touch on Facebook and exchanged phone numbers. I’m positive there will be other opportunities for a get-together. When we do, I’m sure the beer of choice will be much better than what it was in 1989-91: Milwaukee’s Best and Old English. (I get queasy just thinking about it.)

The reunion of sorts dealt with a rock band. Upon discovering Canadian radio in 1996, I quickly became a fan of several outfits based in the Great White North. The best of them, to me, was Big Sugar, who played in Lockport last Friday.

Big Sugar was one of those bands that featured four (sometimes five) musicians who each brought their own personality to the group and together created amazing music. With a mix of blues, rock, reggae and LOUD, they were a fantastic live outfit. The band broke up in 2003 and my ears still ring from the last show I saw, in Welland, Ontario.

A summer reunion tour brought them to three Ontario locations that were within a two hours’ drive, but I don’t have a passport or enhanced driver’s license. Lockport would have been ideal, but I had an out-of-town family obligation last weekend.

I’ve seen Big Sugar (and guitarist Gordie Johnson’s new group, Grady) 15 times. I’ve forged friendships at these shows and was hoping to catch up with a few of them. It wasn’t to be.

Judging from the review in the Lockport Sun & Journal, I missed an incredible show. I’m hoping they’ll be back for more next year.

John Hopkins is the night city editor of the Tonawanda News. His column appears Thursdays. Contact him at john.hopkins@tonawanda-news.com.