That ever-hopeful feeling

Spring is my favorite season and it's finally here.  I'm always filled with joy at the prospects of warmth, lighter clothing, a new baseball season, green trees and grass.  It always seems to make the load lighter - case and point:  leaving the office while there's still daylight and walking home from the ferry before it's dark.

I don't have any particular targets or goals for the new season - albeit to do a minor purge of extraneous items - these last two years have made it so you don't really want to plan too far ahead.  

It's remained a quiet time, which I'm fine with; I think the world is living on a "wait and see" approach; I can understand it.  Plus, you get to an age like 57 and you think to yourself, "well, what's next?".  Then add to that - at this particular moment, especially - the very unsettling war-like direction the world has shifted into and you have a sense of "how do you plan for a future?"

I don't have an answer for any of this - and I'm not being fatalistic - but I can't really think too far ahead.  I'd rather just enjoy the here-and-now, as it is.  

And life's little ironies seem so obvious now...

Talk about coincidence and happenstance.  No sooner than I put up my last posting, I found three copies of The Punch Line's "The Wild Flowers" 45 on Discogs selling for $60, $70 and $80.  But nothing prepared me for the surprise of finding an email from Marc, the guitarist in The Punch Line's original line-up.  It's been since 2005, when I last heard from him.

He had emailed my website address on Christmas Eve, concerning the death of Michael Nesmith and I had only just decided to sign in and see if I needed to clear out my inbox, which I'm very glad I did.  It was a nice exchange and I'm happy to hear that he's well and healthy, as is his brother (the band's bass player and the only person I ever collaborated on songs with).  

It's little things like this that make you smile.  And I definitely appreciated the reconnection, however minute it may be.