Everyday, at 12:37pm, one of the restaurants near the place I work cranks The Pixies “Here Comes Your Man” to eleven for about half a verse. And everyday, at 12:38pm, I begin to hum it until later that night when I fall asleep. Don’t get me wrong, I love the song. It’s just, you know, everyday.
I’m getting stoked on my friends lately, just thinking about how cool they all are, and how lucky I am to know them. But that isn’t what’s important. What’s important is that this means that winter is one-third over. Here’s how it works: Once Christmas has left us fat in it’s wake, and January’s in it’s 20s, I start thinking about my friends. I think about the stuff we used to do, where everyone is now, and if any of them (those not already in VT) have plans that involve vermont this summer.
When winter’s half over, I’ll think about playing bass again. I’ll reconsider joining bands, and I might even talk to some friends in the Boston area about starting some kind of thing up. I’ll start worrying about my bike, and getting it all set for summer. And I’ll spend a lot of time on Amtrak dot com, figuring out just how to make it to four states, that are no where near each other, in a week and a half.
Now, here’s where it gets exciting. Phase three. Winter is so close to over, and every ad is either for beer or amusement parks. It’s then that I throw away the plants I’ve killed during the winter, and repot some vinca vines that don’t know what they’re in for. It’s then that I’m on my bike more than I’m not, even though it hasn’t quite broken 40-degrees yet. And it’s then that every idea becomes a plan (instead of just fizzling out like it ideas do in the winter time), and every plan gets, at least, attempted.
Winter’s the worst, and this year’s been no exception. In fact, it’s worse than worse here. But, we’re in phase one, and phase one is a good phase to be in. Not as good as phase four of course. The phase of happy fantastic sun shiney times. But that it’s a phase at all is good with me.
I gotta go knit some tankinis.
