Anyone else in that precipice-of-spring rut, or just me?
One would think the lingering daylight hours and sun streaked landscapes beckoning blossoms and blades of grass would be a welcome respite from what has been, despite a somewhat disappointing lack of snowfall, a seemingly endless winter slumber. And yet, there’s this feeling of nearly one quarter of the year being over, with little to show for it.
‘This train isn’t going anywhere.’
So barked the conductor as we attempted to set off on our journey into the city this past weekend. And with those five words — and a last minute change to the departing track number — the dye was cast for the day.
Social media can be a cesspool, this much is true. But lately, it’s the predictability that gets me. The blatant toxicity as people scurry into their established respective camps to dig in and defend whatever the accepted perspective of the day might be.
I recently shared a humorous {in retrospect} story with a friend, where I felt compelled to leave a raged-induced voicemail {at 1 o’clock in the morning, no less} meant for the maintenance department who handles {‘handles’ being a very generous term} work orders in my apartment complex. Problem was, it wound up in the main corporate mailbox, and was fielded by probably the nicest, most competent woman employed by said corporation. Whoops.
Waiting. It’s something we spend a great deal of our lives doing, whether we realize it or not.
Waiting for return phone calls and text messages. Waiting for acknowledgements, whether of material gifts or those more subtle talents we wish to share with the world. Waiting for plans to be finalized, commitments to be made, progress.
Two types of people have emerged in this first week of 2023.
First thought, best thought… a phrase I’ve only recently become aware of, as echoed by none other than Mr. Johnny Depp, in speaking of his profound admiration for poet Allen Ginsberg. But more on that in a moment.
Feedback is a funny thing. Sometimes, quite literally humorous; but often, it provides just the sort of objective perspective you’re seeking. Short of one rather significant piece penned this year {again, hold that thought}, it’s been just about a full revolution around the sun since I’ve managed to craft anything resembling a column. No particular reason; but also, no particular inspiration.
While some may have raised an eyebrow at the prospect of a Jeff Beck and Johnny Depp musical collaboration, it’s safe to say any lingering doubt was erased the moment the guitar legend was joined onstage by the film icon and co-founder of rock supergroup The Hollywood Vampires, at The Paramount in Huntington on Oct. 14 and 15.
Days unfold. Weeks evolve. Months seem to draw to their respective conclusions with little fanfare or warning. And before we know it, the holiday decor is being pulled down from the attic, and plans are being outlined for next year.
This is 39.
The beginnings of it, anyway.
I recently came across an old column from the archives where I saw fit to wax poetic on the oft-repeated concept that ‘birthdays are beginnings’ — though, if we’re being completely honest, every moment serves as a unique opportunity to shift perspective and strive for … something better.
Another month, another column.
Is it even a column anymore? Perhaps a blog. a musing. A collection of random thoughts neatly packaged and shared at irregular intervals.