The Coral Gables Times

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Keep an Eye on Spring

ILLUSTRATION BY AL KAUFMAN Beware of siren or bird song, of bee buzz and April rain-it's heady stuff, says this seasoned commuter BY GEORGE OLLIN SPRING, when it comes to the harassed suburbanite with an income of $8,750 annually and three and one-quarter children, presents something of a problem. In summer it is too hot and muggy to do much of anything but let your money gather interest in the bank. In winter it is too cold for enterprise. Autumn presents an in-between kind of time when one merely waits. Spring, however, seems to come with a sudden rush to the head; a giddy excitement and a feverish yearning to DO something. This must be fought firmly. Modern man with his lack of physical exercise, his talkative wife, his unfinished bomb shelter, and his serious inflation is in no position to yield to the siren song of spring. The April rain whispers of deeds to be done, accomplishments to be accomplished, new starts to be made, and old failures to be dissolved. Pay no attention. Start painting the house if you want to, against my advice. You will never finish it. It just looks easy because it's spring and everything looks easy. All nature conspires to fill you with dry sherry and soggy thinking. The house didn't need painting in the winter, did it? Why should it now? And even if it did, you forgot about it, didn't you? And suppose your wife does nag you about it. If you should ever, by a miracle, get it done, she'll find something else to nag you about, won't she? You can't possibly do all the things she wants you to do this spring. Why start on any of them? Then there's the car. Runs all right. Wouldn't win any cups in Europe or on the Salt Flats. But it runs. Spring isn't satisfied with that. Spring says you could take it apart and put it together again so that the motor sounds like an electric watch. Dizziness enters the mind. Spring's flattery is seductive. With a "hey, nonny, nonny!" you may well start tinkering. You'll regret it. You are no more capable of improving your car now than you were last summer. You're not even as capable. You're older. Let it be. It is true the young lady across the fence begins to take her shivery sun baths in interesting bikinis. A mild flirtation certainly seems the order of the April day. And the girl who rides down to work with you many mornings when you pick her up at the bus stop-she seems more congenial, and she looks almost like a new-sprung daffodil. The new secretary seems as promising as the burst of forsythia and will be gone as soon. Somewhere in your head there commences the notion, prancing and dancing and luring you on... the notion that it would be gay and heart-warming to indulge in a bit of harmless friendship with these young things. Beware! These girls are no different from what they were in winter. You are getting the business from taunting spring. Look in the mirror. Outside of that gleam in your eye, you are still the guy who waltzes to a cha-cha and doesn't even dance cheek to cheek with someone who wants to. Give it up. ANOTHER THING that snares the average man in spring is the problem of new foliage and finery. He sees the Red Emperor tulips bursting forth. He sees the maple in new dress. He regards the beauty of the mountain laurel. So he starts thinking of how dashing and captivating he would look in a new-model suit. After all, the old one is aged three. Take another think. The new suits won't fit you. They're too tight. The lapels are too narrow. Ten years ago, maybe. Not now. Your old suits are good enough. It'll be hot in a few weeks, and you can switch to your drip-dry dacron and cotton. You'll never look as good as a maple tree in fresh leaf or a mountain laurel newly blooming. Not a chance. Quit when you're ahead. All nature is on the side of trees and flowers. All nature is directly opposed to homo sapiens. A phase of spring dreaming that can be devastating is the illusion brought on by bird song, bee buzz, April rain, lovely sunsets, storm-washed skies, and newness all about. The illusion is that you are young again, capable of great adventure and daring; that you are free and the world is

24 Suburbia Today, April 1962