April 17, 2012: Hurrah! Huzzah! Good Morning! ... The season, like the worm of proverb, has soundly turned! Spring is here! Yes, I'm almost sure of it. And while I detest insects, motorcycles, hot weather and idle chat about the prospects in the Bronx, I love that flowers are out, women are in heat, and I have all this extra daylight with which to watch television.
(Excuse the interruption. My vitriolic daughter is sassing me about making her breakfast. "I'm working," I explained. "I'm trying to make the world safe for democracy!" She just doesn't get it. It's cereal for her!)
With the disturbing thunderous ponderance of tiny, fueled engines -- leaf blowers, lawn cutters, chainsaws -- has come the proliferation of little, square, yellow signs sneakily situated on the corners of the properties around my neighborhood, (which is clearly bug-infested for one reason or another). These signs indicate the spraying of chemicals, mainly to kill bugs. Hurrah! It's bug killing week, and the armies are out in force. Spring is here! The wasps are rallying and those giant centipedes think this is THEIR year to finally reign ... but we'll show them otherwise, won't we! This is, after all, America, and we're not about to let any creature without a backbone come into power.
The trees are another matter. They're like Ghandi-esque buddhists in their benign protests against modern humanity. A fast chainsaw will take care of them. These once-noble giants are now known to be the vicious killers I've always suspected them to be. (We all know about the woman who was attacked and KILLED by a tree just two seasons ago during one of their virulent storms; try and tell me that was an accident! Just try!)
It's good to see that the CT State Highway Department is taking brave steps to abort their operations BEFORE they can get started. More and more trees are being tagged along the Merritt Parkway (which ironically is an "historic" highway, owing to its breathtakingly beautiful bucolic vistas and all -- the concentration of trees, I guess). Well, the state is seeing that this folly gets reeled in, because any one of these trees could reek havoc at any time -- along the Merritt ... Route 136 ... or IN YOUR VERY HOME!
I've long been suspicious of trees, as many of you know. Like certain dogs, and even some people, they've clearly got mysterious ulterior motivations brewing in their bellies. And while they may come off like gentle giants all full of druid kindness and solemnity, they're really little more than a renegade motorcycle gang operating on silent wheels.
This is why it's always a practical exercise to start each spring by cutting down as many trees as possible, if only to show the others who's boss. The same is true for the bugs. For while it's true that we NEED some of them for RESOURCES, like flies making honey and crickets making hors d'euvres, in fact, owing to mankind's smart resourcefulness, we don't NEED any of these slippery little fiendish creatures sneaking into our homes and laying eggs in our ears and brains and giving us welts and heebie-jeebies.
Yes, the season of rebirth is upon us (or birth, depending on your religious affiliation). Time to get out and show the world how pale your upper torso is. Time to start sneezing and rubbing your eyes. Time to stay up late and watch the spring constellation come into sight, like so many tiny stars that form random little pictures in a creative man's mind ... And speaking of stars, don't forget that Space Case is still available at Amazon, to make wrong those of you who actually thought I'd go through an entire Blah-ugh! entry without mentioning it ...
Ah, spring! We hardly knew ye!
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