Spring

Maybe it is the way the gold lights up the bedroom at 7:30 AM. Maybe it is the way that work no longer feels like a nine-hour chore and instead feels like nine hours of a job (I don't think it will ever return to eight hours of excitement). Maybe it is the way that good bands find their way back on stage after a long winter's nap. Or maybe it is just a cycle of my under-utilized brain.

Whatever it is, I have settled into an ignornant state of semi-bliss. World strife doesn't cause me any worry. Middle East tensions, lax security at our nation's airports, and misappropriated state funds seem like the drivel of news outlets with too little about which to worry.

I realized today that I have slipped into a potentially dangerous state of carelessness. It's been sharpening its claws for about a year now and today reared its head in the form of an English Bull with a boat anchor chain around its neck.

I was standing along the dog's fence line. It wagged its tail deceptively. The old man standing beside me said the dog would rather eat my face than lick my outstretched hand. The dog belongs to a family that isn't coming home anytime soon. The woman and man of the house are in jail, accused of beating the home's 13 year-old to death with a broomstick.

I stood in March sunlight--feeling especially close to an old man I will never see again--and felt sorry for the dog that was sizing up my jugular. The 13 year-old kid wasn't even taking a close second to my feelings for the dog that wanted to eat me. Later--when I realized that I was still thinking about the dog and had almost completely forgotten about the dead kid--I started wondering if I should be thinking about another line of work.

I have started finding happiness in simple pleasures...the coy grin of a nice girl who just said something a little naughty...my dog's drooping eyelids after a long day of fetch...a perfect hook in the middle of an imperfect blues song...a single cold beer when I should be drinking water...a long drink of water when I should be drinking beer.

I've found an ability to ignore things that would usually bother me and bother things that would usually ignore me.

Greatest among my insignificant epiphanies is a sense of ignorant anticipation. Something lies ahead and I have no idea what it is. Usually I have an unexplained sense of doom or an overblown sense of excitement. Now, whatever lies ahead is nameless and lacking in labels of import.

What sits on my mind right now is that sense of ignorant life bliss--the exact opposite of what usually befalls our tragic hero toward the end of October. In the Fall, I care about everything too much and watch most of it pass by. In the Spring I care about everything but don't care what happens...as long as something happens.

So, here's to Spring and antici........pation.