Run, take cover, for the scariest reason,
We’re under assault from the meanest season.
One day we freeze, the next we swelter.
God help us, it’s spring, gimme shelter!
Happy first day of spring! Can I join you in your bomb shelter? Seriously, I have no idea why spring has such a wonderful reputation. If you like tornados, severe thunderstorms, blizzards, and hail the size of cannon balls, then spring is your thing. If none of those suit you, wait till next week. Spring probably has a tsunami or volcano eruption up its sinister sleeve. Or maybe some good old-fashioned Biblical flaming hailstones.
Yet millions anticipate spring’s arrival as if she’s the Easter bunny, your fairy godmother, and the good witch of the north all wrapped into one. I say more like Attila the Hun, Hitler, and Jack the Ripper. She rips us almost daily with some of the foulest weather this side of Saturn. When she gives us a beautiful, soft, warm day, that’s what it usually is – one day. Then – WHACK! A vicious smack in the side of the head with a cold front, ice pellets, and fifty mile-an-hour winds.
Does spring just have good PR? Is it all a reputation founded on good press? Do we believe spring is good because the media tells us it is? Nah, we’d never fall for anything the media says.
I believe it’s all about positioning. It’s like being in the batting lineup after Mickey Mantle – you’re a welcome relief. If you’re the Roman emperor who succeeds the madman Caligula, you’re going to look pretty good. So we have uncovered spring’s one redeeming feature: it follows winter.
Which brings me back to the beginning, and our ode to the vernal equinox. (I’m not a language expert, but based on the context, I believe vernal must mean, “from the gates of hell.”) And now for the second verse, bad as the first:
Listen up, spring, you ugly toad,
Make tracks, vamoose, hit the road.
Your presence here is such a bummer,
Get thee behind me, make room for summer.
(Personal Joe-note to all Zoners: Over the coming year, we will examine each season when that season comes in season, as our home planet whips around the sun at a ridiculous speed considering we’re not even wearing seat belts. Or would they be planet belts? Anyway, for all of you Zoners in the southern hemisphere, this may be a bit confusing, as your seasons are reversed compared to normal people. So, if I say “spring,” you think “autumn,” and if I say “winter,” you think “summer,” and so on. Doesn’t sound too hard, does it? I mean, if you can produce the Bee Gees, Nicole Kidman, and Hugh Jackman, you should be able to handle this.)