Spring Fever

Hello World, Happy Spring! Admittedly, inasmuch as it was a bracing 30 degrees at the time, with 6 inches of snow pounding down on us all the while, it was a little hard to get entirely into the spirit of the season, I don't mind saying. Fortunately, Saturday was sunny and 20 degrees warmer, so the snow turned out to be more of a minor nuisance and less of a major calamity, especially compared to many other storms during the previous months. On the other hand, earlier last week we had some much warmer weather, and also some rain, and we had finally seen some significant inroads in the piles of snow that were still blighting the landscape everywhere like a bad rash that was all but impervious to treatment. I was out feeding the birds on Sunday, and couldn't help but notice the unmistakable tender shoots of early crocus and daffodils scattered about in the yard, and a more welcome sight would be hard to beat. Talk about your harbingers of Spring, Mother Nature, this is the real deal, and no mistake about it. Can dandelions be far behind? I think not! Of course, St. Patrick's Day was on Tuesday, and if there's a better time for everyone to get their green on, I just don't know what it would be. Now that it's over with, we can all pack away our green pompoms and leprechaun derbies for another year, and get on with our lives, in their usual monochrome monotony. Not so fast! As one of the most famous movable feasts of all time, anyone can tell you that the parades and bagpipes aren't over already, and not by a long shot, begorra. The so-called St. Patrick's Day parades continue at least to the end of the month and beyond, in communities all over the region, with plenty of green beer to spare, and apparently not a hint of irony to be found, from one end to the other. Why, a marching enthusiast in this area could pick just about any old day of the month, and throw a dart, and find a parade dedicated to the Irish saint, and The Holiday Police can go ahead and lump it. Now, there's been little enough to celebrate over this grizzled and miserable winter, so if this is what it takes to make people happy, give them a reason for living, and forget their troubles for a while, by golly, you know I'm all over that like corned beef on cabbage. Green beer, anyone? It's undeniably true - as anyone on FaceBook or other social media can tell you, because there was no getting away from it - that the previous week on Wednesday was my birthday, and they certainly don't shy away from divulging the actual numbers involved, however ugly or depressing those might be to the concerned parties, and I ought to know. Or as one wag took the diplomatic way to describe it, the 32nd celebration of my 29th birthday (thanks, Jim!) which really does take some of the sting out of it somehow. Bill and I had plans to wend our way over to Pizzeria Uno on Central Avenue in Yonkers, since we had already been to the one in White Plains, and felt that there was some room for improvement in that situation. Actually, it was a nice enough place, but complicated to get to, plus being crowded on a Friday (a party of 40 kids didn't help) and I was especially disappointed that the two items I ordered to have together were brought separately, and not to the betterment of either, I can tell you that. Conversely, their Yonkers location is relatively easy to reach, and has unlimited parking right outside the door, so that was an improvement right there over downtown White Plains, and glad of it, believe me. It was fairly quiet on a Wednesday, although not empty by any means, and we found the service very attentive and prompt, so we had no complaints on that score. We thought the food was excellent, including an appetizer of their new soft pretzel sticks with dipping sauce, and naturally, there was no way that we could pass up their new zeppoles for dessert - although truth to tell, any Italian worth their salt would scoff at the idea of these prefab munchies having any relation to actual zeppoles in any way, shape, manner, form, or description whatsoever, I dare say. On the whole, it turned out to be a very nice birthday dinner altogether, with the perhaps added advantage (or disadvantage, depending on your personal philosophy) that you can actually tell them it's your birthday, and they don't round up the whole serving staff to come over to your table and sing some silly song at you, while everyone else in the joint claps and stares. Honestly, you'd think they had never seen anybody turning 29 for the 32nd time. In other local news, I stumbled across some more inadvertent humor at my temporary job, and once again, often in the most unexpected places. All of the client files in our database have a section where you can leave comments, for updates and transactions as they occur, so everyone can see the chronological history of what has happened up to the present. This is a very useful feature, but it does have limited functionality, and for instance, no spell checker of any sort. That probably would have come in handy for the person who posted the comment about sending out medical reports to the individuals involved in the case, using a variety of methods combining speed and thrift. Actually, it came out more like this: "Gave reports to the mailroom to ovenright the state insurance board, ovenright saver the attorney, and regular mail the rest." I love how that looks so cute as "ovenright" instead of "overnight," as if "ovenright" should be its own word, that would be completely acceptable standing on its own. ("This casserole recipe is designed to be perfectly ovenright, and should not be attempted on the stovetop," for example.) On another client file, I discovered this quixotic entry: "Gave the 1/22/15 report to the mairloom." Unlike the hopelessly lackluster "mailroom," this innovative "mairloom" is so delightfully reminiscent of "heirloom" that it can't help but lend an air of genteel dignity to the place, which I don't mind saying, had been sorely lacking up until then. Unfortunately, I can tell you from personal experience that even the most rudimentary spell-checker does, in fact, object to both of these words, often in strenuous arguments of no uncertain terms, however adorable or serendipitous they may appear to innocent bystanders. But in a world where the ubiquitous auto-correct feature often takes all the fun out of things, this was a refreshing glimpse into the fast-fading foibles of the flying fickle fingers of fallible folks. Speaking of fingers, you find in most churches nowadays, no matter where you go, there comes a part in the worship service after the prayers, where those in attendance are requested to join in with "the passing of the peace," and greet each other - perhaps with a friendly wave, a hearty handclasp, a hug or a kiss, depending on the denomination's traditions or the demonstrativeness of their members. I have no idea how they pull this off in those giant mega-churches where 2,000 people all show up at one time, and I'm thinking that maybe a polite nod is all you get out of them. At our church, you can count on the tiny but stalwart company to all get out of their seats, and greet each person individually, which doesn't take as long as it sounds, because there's so few of us. Here is my favorite part of this, which came from an unexpected quarter. There's a woman who comes to church with her little granddaughter, Dallas, who is almost 2 years old now, and can stand by herself and possibly talk, although she doesn't say much, which is probably just as well. When everyone gets up and starts to circulate, Dallas stands in the middle of the center aisle with her hand held out, and if you walk up to her, she happily shakes her hand just like a trained puppy, regardless of whether she actually has your hand or not, and she's just as intent on shaking the empty air as pressing the flesh of a real live person. This is way cuter than it has any reason to be, and has become the highlight of what can often be a rather humdrum affair. It may be early days yet, but here I'm thinking that she's got a bright future in politics, with that million dollar handshake of hers, and pretty soon we could be seeing her marching in all the St. Patrick's Day parades that any one person could possibly handle. I sure hope she likes green beer. Elle