Where Is Spring?

Where Is Spring

An indomitable groundhog scurries across my lawn, signaling the start of Spring. A hairy woodpecker drills at sunrise from the dead branches of a tall locust tree and garners my attention, 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, and well tanned ‘snowbirds’, returning home from sea, sand and sun, expressed their disappointment and dismay at finding lingering snow showers. Even weather reporters proclaimed it, albeit reluctantly.

But, ‘where is Spring’?

Baseball players pass hours oiling their gloves and tarring their bats, hoping against hope that fields will be green and plush for Opening Day. Pot holes turn roads into obstacle courses, challenging drivers at every turn. Even the earliest flower, the crocus, is nowhere to be seen. The supply of hand warmers is depleted. The flannel sheets are worn thin. The damp air, low clouds, and dire forecast surely is winter’s last ditch effort to overstay its worn out welcome.

But, ‘where is Spring’?

Mother Nature was kind to western New Yorkers this winter, giving us hope that Spring would be early. However, the proverbial ‘light at the end of the tunnel’ seems to be out, dashing our spirit. Easter Sunday is but days away. Newspapers are announcing the opening dates of local golf courses. School kids are starting their ‘Spring Break’. And while my weather app just flashed this warning, ‘ snow flurries starting soon’, I am compelled to ask…

‘Where the Hell 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’