The Winter Winds that have littered the local lonely runners these last few months seem to be turning its blustery puffs another direction. The snow is melting. The end (of winter) is near. As the snow retreats, the Thistle & Weeds reappear. Michigan is awash in dirty, running water, slush and mud. This is the time of year when we collectively soak in our filthy winter bath water only to emerge fresh and clean come spring.
I love it. I just might wear shorts on my run today. The size of my smile is directly proportional to the amount of exposed deer and raccoon carcasses along the road side ditches. You can have your lilacs and fresh cut lawn; nothing says spring to me like the rancid odor of a two month old, picked over raccoon with empty, gaping eye sockets.
This morning, I stared at my White Blank Page trying to determine how I’d communicate the joy I feel about this 50 degree day. I can feel my inner Little Lion Man growling. Some 800’s are near, finally!
Winter, I Gave You All. But it’s time for us to Roll Away Your Stone and emerge from The Cave. The wonderful world of running sans Himalayan mountain gear is upon us. Sure, I know we are bound to get another blast of cold and freezing temperatures…perhaps another inch or two of snow as well. I realize that I’m tempting fate by celebrating the arrival of spring on February 17th. In Michigan. I don’t care. Define your Timshel. Thou mayest choose to fear the evil past racing up from behind or look towards the glorious future. Awake My Soul, it’s time to run longer and faster!
It’s amazing that we’ve arrived at this point so soon After The Storm. I was about to choke on the noose around my neck. The chair was wobbly; one little kick – or a hard sneeze - would have toppled it and sent me into the dead man’s dance.
But here we are. I’m running today in shorts and 50 degrees. It’s a heat wave. Come summer, this slushy, wet land will look more like a Dust Bowl.
But that’s a problem for another day.
Sigh no more, little lion man, sigh no more.
Other Unasked For Updates
Note from the front:
In my last post, I announced WAR with the mailman. The mailman lost. I did not shovel. The snow melted enough a day later that he could find no reason to continue suspending delivery. I got my two days worth of credit card applications and unsolicited insurance appraisals. The mailmen may look imposing in their dress blues but, trust me, they can be beaten by a simple shift in the weather pattern.
Laughter is the Best Medicine:
And beer. Mrs. Nitmos and I attended the 2nd annual Comedy Festival along with some friends of ours over the weekend. I won’t tell you if Jeffrey Ross, Comedy Central’s Roastmaster General, is funny or not. If you find it amusing that he brought an obnoxiously drunk blond on stage and asked her “when the last time you had a microphone up your ass. I mean, today” then you probably get the general flow of the show. Good times, good times. Next year, people, you can attend also. Save the date.
A Microbrew Festival of some sort happened to be going on in town at the same time. This was unfortunate as it turned my favorite local restaurant into a fraternity party. I could smell Axe everywhere. I waited in line 10 guys deep just to use the pisser and, once inside, found two “ladies” using one of the men’s stalls. Where am I? Is this 1990? Am I in the basement of the TKE house?
Finally, our good friend Viper has “picked” a new blog to tell you everything you want to know about banjers. It promises lots of good information, interviews, news and notes about everything banjo related. Since he’s an interesting writer, it’ll no doubt be a good read even if you aren’t a banjo enthusiast. Go there and support him. At press time, no word on whether the site will discuss toothless sodomites.
Main post musical references provided by these guys.