Saturday, January 1, 2011

Spring's Almost Here! Because I Said So!


Well, Happy New Year! January 1, 2011! And all that happy horse-crap.

You know what that means: back to our regularly scheduled drudgery.

Positive thinking: You're at the wrong blog.

Yep. Pack up the Christmas lights, the ornaments, the presents, the serotonin, the smiles. Throw away the stale cookies, and by all means, drink up the last of the gifted wine. You’ll need it. Go ahead and stick your head in the oven.

Because the party's over, kids. The Visa bill is on its way. Calories count again. Winter's just begun. Work weeks last five ridiculous days. Hardly any paid holidays - until May.

Slashed your wrists yet?

Thank God for the holidays. They're really the only thing that makes winter tolerable, and I'm pretty sure He planned it so that we'd have a little joy during the darkest, most depressing time of year. This ensures human survival. Otherwise, many of us would throw ourselves off the nearest bridge.

God: He's no Dummy.

Here in the Midwest, we mostly use winter as a chance to pursue our passion: new ways to ingest cream cheese. This helps with the soul-crushing depression. So we eat more cream cheese, which makes us fat, and leads to more depression.

We? Are geniuses!

I exercise to control the inevitable cream cheese weight gain, and it was on one of these jaunts where I encountered this lovely site:

I know. You're saying "What an incredible picture!"  You can see here why I am an award-winning photographer, can't you?

Shut up.

What is it, you ask? A dog turd? Melting snow? A dog turd in melting snow?

Folks, believe it or not, it's a robin. Spring's own lovely messenger. Bearer of better weather and whatnot. Sure, it was eight days after winter solstice when I shot the photo, the temperature hovered around 15 degrees and Christmas was, like, yesterday. But I know, without a doubt, that the sight of this particular bird means spring is almost here.

Why? Because Mama told me so.

Shut up.

I can hear your whispers. Some of you are saying that robins aren't harbingers of spring because not all of them fly south for the winter. You’re basing this theory on stupid things - such as science. You state that if food is plentiful, many robins will stick around and tough out the cold weather like the rest of the dummies.

Blah blah blah, whatever. Haters.

I bet you don't believe in Santa Claus, either.

But I believe. I believe that our little orange feathered friends bring the spring: Daffodils! Color! Life! Anything but brown and white!

God is in Heaven, Santa’s resting at the North Pole, and all will be right with the world.

Why? Mama told me so.

Shut up.

And pass the cream cheese.

6 comments:

  1. Sarcastic--I love it!! I still say it's a blackbird wearing a robin suit. We Wisconsiners know about robins--they fly in FLOCKS here. ;-) Happy New Year!

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  2. That was great Dawn. It expressed all the negative thoughts that I drink and eat cream cheese (yes even in NJ we eat cream cheese)to forget about. Oh Reality!! But If there's a robin in WI that must be one somewhere in NJ. I'll keep looking! Happy New Year!

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  3. Good stuff! I live in Florida now, but was born and raised in Kansas. Cream cheese was/is/will always be my life. I am blind to the judgers. :-)

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  4. Here in LA LA land we pig out on Tofutti Spread instead of cream cheese. Between jogging that is.

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  5. LOVE IT! Yes, that robin is your sure sign that spring is on it's way...if anyone else doubts you, you've already figured out the answer...SHUT UP!

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  6. Yeah, nowhere in the Bible does it say when Jesus was actually born. Sorry. It wasn’t December 25. Now you see why the Romans celebrated Saturnalia this time of year instead. Lot’s of animal sacrifices to Saturn. Not b/c they believed in Saturn, they were just pissed. Had to take it out of something. The rest of it involved lots of wine and lots of orgies. I know, huh?

    But yeah, your picture is a spiritual event. It is full of lyrical optimism that emanates from the beauty of the work itself and from the poetic nature of nature. Your oeuvre is both intelligent and understated. The juxtaposed central elements of bird, dead stick and snow placed within the context of transition inspires a spiritual quality that can’t be defined. It harkens back to the untroubled Francisco Goya minutes before he flipped out. A masterpiece – ceteris paribus.

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