Green Day

One of my favorite days of the year has no name, doesn’t fall on the same date, isn’t celebrated, but never fails to change my outlook. It is the one day every year when the world turns from brown and grey to green. Today was that day in Allen, Texas.

I can still remember the first time I witnessed the annual color shift. I was standing in right field during baseball practice. If you have ever stood in right field during little league baseball practice you will understand why I was spacing out rather than watching the current batter at work – batting practice is like, no, worse than watching paint dry.

This particular right field happened to be hemmed in by mountains on all sides. Our mountains were always green at the bottom, skirted by evergreens, but the top half, above the tree-line, changed with the seasons. At that time of year (June) the white caps of winter has mostly melted away revealing the brown remains of last year’s tundra.

On that day I looked up in between unsuccessful swings of the bat and, as if someone had flipped a switch, the mountains were all green. Oh, so striking. I had this sensation of being full of optimism, and energy, like a drab veil had been lifted.

I love this day. I have loved this day the 40-some times I have seen it since my days as a Yankee. Today I witnessed it on my bike, not in right field. I saw little patches of wildflowers on the side of the road, construction sites beautified by over-enthusiastic weeds growing on piles of dirt, little fields of dark green, knee-high wheat, and cattle grazing in untidy, flower-speckled pastures.

On “Green Day” as the new growth overtakes the dead remnants of winter, I feel like I can too.

Death by Ukulele

I’m glad I didn’t honk, because the guy in front
of me missed death by a split second. He was
waiting at a red light, I was behind him.  The
light changed green, he didn’t see the light
change because he was spacing off. Even though
I was late and in a hurry I decided not to
honk but wait for him to look up. A few seconds
later he looked up, saw the light was already
green, looked in his mirror and saw me there
and quickly started to drive ahead. Before he could
drive 2 feet he slammed on his brakes again
because a car had just run the red light and sped
by in front of him going 40 MPH. 

I’m sure that if I had honked he would have popped
out into the intersection just in time to get
broadsided by the light-runner. The three of us
were a hair’s-breadth away from a boat-load of
sorrow: One guy dead, one guy who just killed
someone, and me the catalyst of the collision.
Life is so fragile, death is so near.  I suppose
if we knew how often we pass next to death we
would never leave the house. 

Anyway, I believe in Guardian Angels.
I think mine rescued me.


I leave for Hawaii tomorrow morning.  Susan and
I have been looking forward to this trip! It will
be great to see Mark and Ari after all this time. 
I think there will be snorkeling, hiking, and lots
of picture taking.  We’ll have to go out in the
dark at least once because I will be able to see
some stars I have always wanted to see, but aren’t
visible from the north.   

Since World Music is on my mind these days I
researched the music of Hawaii. I bought a very
cheap ukulele (wretchedly out of tune) and have
been practicing. I scheduled a lesson for next
Tuesday at a studio not far from Mark’s house,
and I hope to buy a decent ukulele when I’m
there, and meet up with some local
musicians.

OK, let me sum up: I'm still alive,
I'm still a geek.  

tim