Ah, yes, the summer rapidly approaches, and with it comes the time-honored tradition of summer movies.

Movies are an interesting animal for the single person.

We can talk about “the movies,” as in “going to the movies,” or “dinner and a movie.” Movies have always seemed intertwined with our notions of dating. I'm not sure how many of us have actually been to a drive-in theater, yet its association with love (or lust) is inseparable.

Movies once were a secret hideaway for teenage naughtiness, a place of early mating rituals (or so I've heard, since I missed most of those experiences in my youth — I wasted my formative years renting movies instead of going to them).

I've never liked going to movies when I'm first dating someone. I can't talk to him very much, so I can't learn much about him.

Others might argue it's the perfect way to scope out helpful tidbits of information about your date, all of his odd habits, without actually having to speak to him. Does he lift the armrest or leave it down? Does he share the popcorn? Does he try to talk to you during the movie or make uninvited critical comments?

I suppose we still could make out with our dates, among other forbidden activities, at movie theaters, either for the excitement or for those who still live with their parents. I really can't think of anything more romantic than smacking lips during the opening credits of “Spider-Man 3.”

Then there's the issue of love — specifically people looking for love — depicted on the silver screen. I didn't call any Hollywood executives, but I have a feeling there will be at least one film this summer designed to cater to the single ladies who either (a) want a relationship; (b) want to get out of a bad relationship or (c) just got out of a bad relationship and hope love is around the corner.

These films are set in bars in Morocco, diners in New York or cafes in Paris. They represent miles of celluloid devoted to the architecture of love, its nuances and quirks.

The summer I went to visit my cousin and aunt in New York City when I was 9, we saw a huge movie poster on the street advertising “When Harry Met Sally.” My mother told me I couldn't see it because I was too young. But

I remember staring at it, wondering what exactly would be revealed about men and women and why they were so different.

Every movie has its own association. “The Graduate” is forever connected to memories of my first boyfriend my junior year of high school, only because I saw the film around the same time. “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless
Mind” reminds me of the guy I briefly dated who was completely wrong for me, a fact that was very clear as we sat in a theater, and I cried beside him, wondering what I was doing there.

And don't even get me started on movie soundtracks. That is a whole other column.