Silent Spring

Boing! Spring has sprung. When I drive home from the office the yellow sun is still up. Little purple flowers squeeze up through the cracks in the concrete sidewalks. Red buds color the old winter skeletons of the trees and shrubs. The twitter of birdsong from the yard awakens my delighted ears. I can smell the earthiness of the outdoors after a rain shower. I like to taste the yolks of the hardboiled eggs stored in our fridge. Daffodils, frisbees, and good cheer are abound!

But, the truth is: I don't very much like springtime. Not yet anyway, in my 22 year old mind.

I'll attempt to explain why, but words and language are very limited in what they can express. Some feelings are abstractly unique, and there are no words for those feelings.

I've had a stress-induced hair loss condition, Alopecia areata, since I was in third grade. I always seem to have the least hair around the springtime, especially in recent years. Currently, my hair is pretty much fully intact and it should probably be cut soon, but that doesn't change the old emotions associated with low self-esteem that surface in the springtime.

Everyone is in love in the spring. After the dark doldrums of the winter, the warm sun comes out and the fresh green foliage branches into the psyche of plenty of young people. If you weren't already dating somebody, you convince yourself to become infatuated with a special girl/boy for the season of love.

I had a relationship with Emily, who I consider to be my first real girlfriend, in the spring of 2003. We were together for the final 6 weeks of high school. She broke up with me on graduation day--an emotional pinnacle. Anybody who has experienced young love knows what I went through. My mind was constantly surging with romantic thoughts and demanding that I go wherever she was. I was devastated when it ended. I remembering looking at myself in the mirror and putting my head in my hands, crying. Anyway, it'sanother self-esteem killing memory that occurred in and that I associate with the springtime.

Nobody likes to see other couples display their affection publicly, especially if you're single. I remember this song by The Smiths. Morrissey croons, "Two lovers entwined pass me by and heaven knows I'm miserable now." I bought The Smiths' album in the springtime and listened to it on my way to Shop Rite, where I worked in the Deli.

In the spring the semester ends. Any blooming relationship you might have started must now be terminated or postponed until school begins again in autumn (happens to be my favorite season). This was never a problem for me, personally, but I've seen it with other people. The thing that might get to me is the cozy period of time in the college bubble ending. Those summers between the years at college weren't very good ones and most people were elated to be back on campus and with their friends when August came around. Then, of course, there's college graduation itself, bulging with bittersweetness: Gettysburg College May 20, 2007.

Another thing that gets me is the feeling that I absolutely have to be active and productive. Everyone shares their spectacular summer plans around springtime. It serves only as a reminder that if you want to do something fun this summer you got to get your shit together and make it happen. Or it's a reminder that you don't have a summer job or internship lined up, which is pretty disconcerting because no one wants to be poor and bumming around on the couch all summer long. Either way, spring means you really need to make plans or reminds you that you didn't plan very well back in the winter months.

Spring brings pollen and allergies. Thankfully, I have no pollen allergies, but my mom does and so do lots of other people. Allergies make people uncomfortable. So, the people become irritable. Irritable people complain and sneeze and nobody likes that. Just another added annoyance to spring.

So all these spring things compounded create a melancholy ambience for me around this time.

Though, I should also mention the positive things about spring: warmth, longer days,
t-shirts/shorts/sandals, flowers, women wearing less clothing, birdsong, refreshing rain, easter candy, rita's water ice, pre-summer movies, hikes on wooded trails, music album releases, barefeet, just being outdoors.

_____________________

On Tuesday evening, I had a four hour interview with Andrew Kulley, a retired West Windsor Environmental Commission member, at his home. We drank Coors Lights, talked about our favorite poet Bob Dylan, and shared some stories about our lives with each other. He gave some queer advice: often times it's better to ask for forgiveness afterwards rather than to ask for permission beforehand. From what I can tell, Andrew Kulley has one of the wisest, most organized minds I've encountered. He seems to know a lot about everything, and all in great detail, too (or maybe he just uses a lot of big words I don't know). He speaks eloquently and clearly and doesn't skimp on the jokes. I really like the guy. Before I left, he pulled a hardcover copy of Silent Spring by Rachel Carson from his massive bookshelf and gave it to me to read. He said he does want it back sometime though.

Wednesday started out badly. I awoke early to take my brother stream assessing up in Hillsborough, NJ. He needed community service hours for his National Honor Society application so I said he could get those hours by helping me out with my AmeriCorps stream assessments. Anyway, I was up early, half-conscious, and I backed up into our metal garage door, something my senile father has notoriously done before. I dislodged the guiding wheel off the track and seriously dimpled the door. Dan and I sped up to Hillsborough, parked in a dirt driveway, jumped into waders, and got in the stream near a small stony bridge. My waders had leaks in them. My socks and pants got soaked. I was miserable most of the time because of the soggy discomfort and the awful tedium of filling out the assessment forms. The highpoint of the morning was improvising a song with Dan as we plucked bugs off the kicknet: "Fuck you, midge, get off my tweezer!"

In the late afternoon I caught a train up to Secaucus Junction where I was picked up by Matt Manthey, the ambassador for the Hackensack River and the Meadowlands. We drove to the IZOD Arena, met Jen Gately another ambassador, parked in reserved parking, got special access passes, and took the elevator up into the concourse to set up our booth for Green Night at the New Jersey Nets game. The $78.00 tickets were free! And we actually had an extra one, so I called Rob up and invited him to the game. While we were waiting for the game to start, we went down near the court to watch the Nets and Pacers warm up. I got an autograph from a tall player on the Pacers. I think his name was Jermaine O' Neal. Our seats were really good. All the quick passing and dunks were particularly impressive up close. These players were pros, man. The Nets won 124-117. Rob and I stopped at McD's on the way back. He bought me a pie. It was warm, crusty, and appley--the best deal on the menu.

AmeriCorps is getting a little ridiculous. There is simply too much shit that I have to do. I also have soccer games and concerts on the calendar. Maybe, by being busy, the spring will pass more quickly.

On the bright side always,


Andy