Where Is Spring?

Where Is Spring

An indomitable groundhog scurries across my lawn, signaling the start of Spring. A hairy woodpecker drills at sunrise on the dead branches of a nearby locust tree, signaling the start of Spring. Pyramidal piles of pea like deer droppings accumulate by my patio, signaling the start of Spring.

But, ‘where is Spring’?

The calendar confirmed it days ago. The incessant honking of returning geese announced it from the heavens. Well tanned ‘snowbirds’, returning home from sea, sand and sun, gave us reason to be excited about the start of the new season with its clear skies and bright sunshine, Spring. Even weather reporters proclaimed its arrival, albeit nervously.

But, ‘where is Spring’?

Baseball players pass hours oiling their gloves and tarring their bats, hoping that fields will be green and plush for Opening Day. Golf courses are accepting starting times and streams have been stocked for the legal fishing season to start anew.

But, ‘where is Spring’?

Easter Sunday is days away. Schools are starting their Spring break. Pot holes turn roads into obstacle courses, following winter’s thaw, challenging drivers at every turn. The early crocus gallantly pushes through the frost covered ground as a colorful reminder of the changing equinox.

But, ‘where is Spring’?

Hand warmers are sold out at local stores, garden gloves fill their spots. Shovels are stowed and rakes are displayed. Surely, worn flannel sheets will be replaced by lighter cotton covers with the new warmer season, the Spring season.

But, ‘where is Spring’?

Mother Nature was not kind to western New Yorkers this winter. Sunshine was scarce. Dark, dank clouds covered us like a thick wet blanket, day after day, so it seemed. Only a symbol on the calendar gave rise to the notion that Spring had arrived. And while my weather app just flashed this warning, ‘snow flurries starting soon’, I am compelled to ask…

‘Where the heck is Spring?’

srbottch.com

My Morning Paper

Ahhh, the morning newspaper. World updates, local happenings, sports, the funnies. Quite frankly, I’d miss my morning paper more than my morning ‘Joe’. What about you?

I started reading the morning paper as a kid, growing up in Worcester, MA. We were a ‘two-a-day’ family, subscribing to the Morning Telegram and Evening Gazette. Like clockwork, ‘paperboys’ delivered them to our back door early morning and late afternoon, six days a week and Sunday morning. My sister and I raced for the Sunday comics. The winner would get smug while the loser got a tantalizingly long lesson in ‘patience’.

I don’t race to get the paper now, I can’t move that fast. Besides, I probably read the major news items on my smart phone during a night wakeup, hence the urgency isn’t as great. Regardless, reading it page to page is still a priority in the morning.

Afternoon editions are passé in today’s news business. Modern technology informs us as events unfold, no waiting. Cable news, Internet and ‘talking heads’ are fierce competitors for newspapers. In that same vein, I suppose, morning editions are likely carrying ‘stale’ news, as well. Isn’t progress wonderful? Well, yes, but…

I’m a bit of a ‘dinosaur’ when it comes to the ‘speed’ of today’s environment. That’s why I like baseball, a leisurely game, completed when completed, no clock, just a comfortable pastime. Quit tinkering with it.

I don’t like being rushed through checkout lines, either, and am not a fan of instant oatmeal. I like to take my time, and that goes for reading the news. The local paper allows me that quirk without pressing buttons, scrolling screens or double clicking. And I don’t mind a little newsprint on my fingers. I’m a ‘dinosaur’.

I like big headlines, bold and dramatic. The bolder the headlines, the more dramatic the event. Two word headlines really get my attention:

GORE WINS

BUSH WINS

DEWEY WINS

(In baseball, ‘1 outta 3’ is pretty good!)

So many headlines I’ve seen over the years: wars and weather, moon shots and hot shots, politicians and popes, winners and losers. I’ve read them all in my morning paper and even saved some in a box, stashed in my cellar. They probably deserve better.

Occasionally, I’ll read them and reflect, ‘a lot has happened in my lifetime, what will my morning paper read tomorrow?’ I think I’ll hurry to the back door early for that answer. Will it be old news by then? This ‘dinosaur’ enjoys his morning paper!

srbottch

Today, I Threw Like a Girl

Baseball

Recently, I read a story about a baseball player, a ‘pitcher’ who’s unique because he can pitch effectively with either his right or left hand. A major league team plans to give him a tryout and I hope he makes it because I know how hard that is, throwing both left and right handed.

As an adult, I’m doing some simple things to challenge myself, physically and mentally. I dance, memorize poems, write short essays, or ‘musings’, as my sister calls them. My latest challenge is to throw a ball with my left hand. It’s not simple, I’m right handed. The muscles on the left, as well as the whole body action, just don’t flow as smoothly as on my right. They’re not used to it. they haven’t learned it. They don’t have a ‘memory’ of it, yet.

You could say that I ‘throw like a girl’, a common refrain when I was a kid. “Hey, you throw like a girl!”, was the charge. “Yeah, well so’s your mother!”, came the retort, as I ran. I’m improving, though, as I study my right side motion and try to duplicate it on the left. Yesterday, throwing leftie, I zipped a rock against a tree and gave myself a ‘high-five’. Soon, I’ll be able to pat myself on the back using that hand.

Isn’t it odd how we often ascribe certain characteristics, or abilities, to genders; ‘throw like a girl’, ‘walk like a man’? I think I’ve always known this, but my throwing exercise has confirmed it: doing something correctly is a matter of how hard you practice, not necessarily a factor of gender. Today, I watched a girl’s college team practicing for the upcoming softball season. They were learning to throw to the ‘cutoff’ girl from the outfield. Wow, they were good! And the pitcher, she ‘could throw that speedball by you’.**

Today, I threw like a girl..,and was proud of it!

srbottch

**Bruce Springsteen, ‘Glory Days’