(CNN) -- Summer is inching upon us, and that means kids at public pools will be splashing, barbecues in the backyard will be blazing and a slate of blockbusters will start crowding around "The Avengers" at cineplexes.
While all this is going on, one song will be blaring from car radios, tinny laptop speakers and hot dog stands at the beach. And that tune will be deemed the song of the summer.
Of course, each year around this time, anyone with fingers and a Twitter account -- let alone a published byline -- is eager to latch onto a budding chart hit and declare that, yes, this one particular three-minute confection of perfection is definitely going to be the song of the summer.
And if, by chance, that song still happens to be heavily crackling across the airwaves at an hourly rate in August, well, good for those pop prophets. Pat on the back. You were right. Bravo.
But let's just state the obvious: pop does have a way of weaving itself into the fabric of our summer experiences. (Think of these recent, inescapable scorchers: Katy Perry's "I Kissed a Girl" and "California Gurls" in 2008 and 2010, respectively, the Black Eyed Peas' "I Gotta Feeling" in 2009 and LMFAO's "Party Rock Anthem" last year.)
So why, then, doesn't anyone ever focus on the big hits that come along in December, or, for that matter, February? Is there some law that decrees June, July and August are the only zeitgeist-approved months on the calendar? Well, no. But song of the winter just doesn't have the same sexy ri