It's always sunny..., Spring brings a new state of mind
Observation Deck
James Baker
Issue date: 4/17/09 Section: Opinion
And as the soft, pretentious mountains
Glisten in the light of the trees
And all the flowers sing in D minor
And the birds fly happily
We'll be together once again, my love
I need you back, oh, baby baby..."
- Kurt Cobain
This past week, Christians celebrated the holy resurrection of Jesus Christ … but not without the Easter Bunny.
I have never understood where this comes in. One might think a son of God coming back from the dead to save the world from impending doom would be cause enough for wild celebration and maybe even some overzealous rioting; for billions, it should be the greatest day of the year.
But this wasn't enough. So we threw in the Easter Bunny, something that can mean fertility and pregnancy - i.e. getting sex batteries revved back up for the advent of spring.
How crucifixion, sex, a sacrifice for billions and Peeps flawlessly intertwine is beyond me.
Not that it really matters. I'm simply embracing the bunny, as it also signifies a lack of awareness and a call for more planning, thought and reflection … even if that reflection may seem thoughtless.
As we, pale and sickly from the bipolar hell of a rotten winter, peek out of our tiny, dusty caves and, blinded by the sheepish sun, inhale the ever-flourishing wind that now carries with it a curious warmth, we embrace change and the prospect of cleaning up certain aspects of our lives while vigorously tackling new assignments.
However, in the summer, we're too busy daydreaming. Why else would sports like baseball and golf dominate the season?
In the fall, we're too damn busy, and by the onset of winter, we've gained a little weight, we're cold, drowsy and penniless, and we've abandoned projects like picking up an instrument or writing a memoir, at least until spring when we're inspired again.
Thus, spring isn't a season; it's a state of mind. We plan on getting things done while also enhancing our finer points. Most of it gets lost, and the cycle continues, forever and ever, amen.
But I swear that when I cruise around with hideous $2 shades from EZ Mart, blasting The Vaselines and feeling the sun replenish and warm my skin's whole milk pigmentation, I swear that I'm getting something done.
Taking a glance at the big picture and global events, I would be hard pressed to say I really am. In the grand scheme of things, it's just another season, though we are determined to see it as the dawn of Newer and Better things to come.
This week, three pirates met their doom on the high seas, and no, this isn't 1805. We believe ourselves to be more civilized and accomplished than our ancestors, yet we not only still have pirates, but now Octomom clothing brands and the Jonas Brothers.
In London, cases of classic Victorian diseases such as typhoid, whooping cough and scarlet fever have exploded. No word yet on when the Black Death will make the sort of appearance you'd expect from aged rockers who just won't quit.
Speaking of which, despite the Dalai Bama's rock star reception in Europe, grumblings have already begun in … wait for it … France, where Sarkozy cannot wrap his mind around Obama being given so much credit for not actually doing anything yet.
The French are upset with us. This is news to me.
A Kenyan man this week dealt with a much more serious issue than overtaxation with representation when a 13-foot python wrapped its coils around him and slithered up a tree. After an epic struggle, Kenyan police were able to save the man and put the serpent in solitary confinement, up until its escape. The police said they wanted to arrest the fugitive so it wouldn't cause anyone else harm.
And speaking of fugitives, we're now sending off in grand fashion illegal immigrants who were packed into two thimble-sized houses in Springdale, working 16-hour days for pay that never came. Going days without food, a rights advocate desperately called for help from the police … who subsequently called officials who rounded them up.
We're still being spied on too much by the National Security Agency, our forces are stretched thin across the globe, we're still spending the bulk of our budget on bullets and guns, there are still poor, there are still idiots, there's still disease, and our taxes are still too high.
But we made it out of winter and we're still alive.
We whine and moan, but if we looked at the finer things in life, maybe we'd realize that as long as we have the ability to shut up, listen and reflect, we could realize that when we're alive and well to see the sun rise over the little Ozarks, that is a big deal.
James Baker is a columnist for The Arkansas Traveler. His column appears every other Friday.
Glisten in the light of the trees
And all the flowers sing in D minor
And the birds fly happily
We'll be together once again, my love
I need you back, oh, baby baby..."
- Kurt Cobain
This past week, Christians celebrated the holy resurrection of Jesus Christ … but not without the Easter Bunny.
I have never understood where this comes in. One might think a son of God coming back from the dead to save the world from impending doom would be cause enough for wild celebration and maybe even some overzealous rioting; for billions, it should be the greatest day of the year.
But this wasn't enough. So we threw in the Easter Bunny, something that can mean fertility and pregnancy - i.e. getting sex batteries revved back up for the advent of spring.
How crucifixion, sex, a sacrifice for billions and Peeps flawlessly intertwine is beyond me.
Not that it really matters. I'm simply embracing the bunny, as it also signifies a lack of awareness and a call for more planning, thought and reflection … even if that reflection may seem thoughtless.
As we, pale and sickly from the bipolar hell of a rotten winter, peek out of our tiny, dusty caves and, blinded by the sheepish sun, inhale the ever-flourishing wind that now carries with it a curious warmth, we embrace change and the prospect of cleaning up certain aspects of our lives while vigorously tackling new assignments.
However, in the summer, we're too busy daydreaming. Why else would sports like baseball and golf dominate the season?
In the fall, we're too damn busy, and by the onset of winter, we've gained a little weight, we're cold, drowsy and penniless, and we've abandoned projects like picking up an instrument or writing a memoir, at least until spring when we're inspired again.
Thus, spring isn't a season; it's a state of mind. We plan on getting things done while also enhancing our finer points. Most of it gets lost, and the cycle continues, forever and ever, amen.
But I swear that when I cruise around with hideous $2 shades from EZ Mart, blasting The Vaselines and feeling the sun replenish and warm my skin's whole milk pigmentation, I swear that I'm getting something done.
Taking a glance at the big picture and global events, I would be hard pressed to say I really am. In the grand scheme of things, it's just another season, though we are determined to see it as the dawn of Newer and Better things to come.
This week, three pirates met their doom on the high seas, and no, this isn't 1805. We believe ourselves to be more civilized and accomplished than our ancestors, yet we not only still have pirates, but now Octomom clothing brands and the Jonas Brothers.
In London, cases of classic Victorian diseases such as typhoid, whooping cough and scarlet fever have exploded. No word yet on when the Black Death will make the sort of appearance you'd expect from aged rockers who just won't quit.
Speaking of which, despite the Dalai Bama's rock star reception in Europe, grumblings have already begun in … wait for it … France, where Sarkozy cannot wrap his mind around Obama being given so much credit for not actually doing anything yet.
The French are upset with us. This is news to me.
A Kenyan man this week dealt with a much more serious issue than overtaxation with representation when a 13-foot python wrapped its coils around him and slithered up a tree. After an epic struggle, Kenyan police were able to save the man and put the serpent in solitary confinement, up until its escape. The police said they wanted to arrest the fugitive so it wouldn't cause anyone else harm.
And speaking of fugitives, we're now sending off in grand fashion illegal immigrants who were packed into two thimble-sized houses in Springdale, working 16-hour days for pay that never came. Going days without food, a rights advocate desperately called for help from the police … who subsequently called officials who rounded them up.
We're still being spied on too much by the National Security Agency, our forces are stretched thin across the globe, we're still spending the bulk of our budget on bullets and guns, there are still poor, there are still idiots, there's still disease, and our taxes are still too high.
But we made it out of winter and we're still alive.
We whine and moan, but if we looked at the finer things in life, maybe we'd realize that as long as we have the ability to shut up, listen and reflect, we could realize that when we're alive and well to see the sun rise over the little Ozarks, that is a big deal.
James Baker is a columnist for The Arkansas Traveler. His column appears every other Friday.
Viewing Comments 1 - 2 of 2
d.v.p.
posted 4/16/09 @ 10:57 PM CST
Well done.
I do feel like I'm getting things accomplished when I'm riding my bicycle around town underneath the sun. Only I'm not listening to The Vaselines. (Continued…)
j.l.a
posted 6/15/09 @ 12:47 PM CST
Superb.
Well written, great imagery and a unique style that makes you think. Anticipating the next articles- always a pleasure to read on Fridays.
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