Monday, March 30, 2009

Spring Stimulus

Spring is fighting through the wind and the rain to poke its sunny head through the WORST winter in life's memory. Not the worst winter weather wise. They are all equally bad. I'm talking about the R or D word that's been on the tip on the tip of every one's tongues since October.

In New York City, we've seen glimpses: the token random February 68 degree Tuesday, the "I think spring is here, but it's really not" mid-March day, and a few others where people wear coats even though it's 75 degrees just because it was 50 yesterday.

April is just about upon us. Baseball starts back up this weekend. Before we know it we will be dusting off our jorts and capris to bask in warmness of springtime. It won't save our economy or open up new jobs, but there's something hardwired into our brains that says that the new season represents much more than a few degrees. People literally spring into life.

Restaurants and bars open their patios. People stroll around instead of beeline for the next destination. Sunglasses make everyone look less ugly. Hacks and hack-nots ball together on the courts. Rollerbladers make us laugh and a little jealous at the same time. Strollers and ice cream cones and all sorts of Mary Poppinsish outdoor nonsense come to mind so much that I should be writing this in poem form.

It's the collection of it all that makes the new season so great. This isn't about suppressing the trillion dollar distraction; it's about renewing a sense of living. Nobody wakes up every morning to log a ten hour day and cap it off with some Two and Half Men in their Snuggie. Part of the charm of the city is walking around, taking in sights and sounds and freaks and lost tourists without freezing our ass off speedwalking to the subway.

We constantly hear about this Crisis of Confidence. True, no one will buy anything if they have no money or fear losing their job, but no one wants to do much of anything when they are miserable in the cold. Pea coats are nice and the indoor/outdoor contrast makes for a nice juxtaposition when saying "f*** it's so cold out there" or "f*** it's so much warmer in here". But one of the rights of passages living here is braving the horrifically cold winters and horrifically hot summers to enjoy the fall and spring of New York City.

In a time when no news seems to be good news, the best news ends up not being news at all. Rather it's something so simple and bare as the turning of the seasons. Time to get out and enjoy it.

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