Way back in the 1900s when I worked in a business that printed ink on dead trees, we had a competition of sorts in the newsroom.
Each year when March rolled around, the reporters were tempted no matter the context to use the phrase “Ah, spring,” as a lead to a story. The first person to do so was not rewarded so much as roundly mocked, and their story would be cut out and tacked to the bulletin board with the offending phrase circled in red.
I may or may not have been guilty of it, but if I was, it only happened once. But now that we’re firmly entrenched in the new Millennium, I can’t help but recall fondly the ways in which we once described the onset of spring and the literal parade of outdoor activities that signaled its arrival.
At this more mature age and stage of life, I would offer an amendment to the cliched lead with a single vowel change. Given all the challenges this season presents for me now, I humbly submit to you a more appropriate turn of phrase: “Oh, spring.”
It’s not just the impending descent of the yellow clouds of pine pollen that I dread. Spring brings with it packed calendars with youth sports and school performances, yard work, outdoor home projects, not to mention the wardrobe changes and HVAC maintenance.
Well, let’s do mention the wardrobe changes and the HVAC, shall we?
A personal experience of spring that I’m hypothesizing may be a broader trend in the culture is the transition of cold weather. My theory? Winter does not go away with the arrival of the vernal equinox. Winter simply moves indoors.
The chief culprit of this season reversal is air conditioning. Our HVAC systems have completely flipped the way our wardrobes function. Intuitively one dresses more warmly for the winter months. It’s logically given the temperatures and wind chills that assault the senses.
But how often have you chosen that cute sweater over a long sleeve shirt, not to mention whatever layers you do underneath, only to arrive at a public place and swelter under the blast of the smelter’s furnace that passes for climate controlled heating these days? It’s not just the sermon that has us sweating through church in the wintertime.
It can be maddening. If we were to dress for the conditions we will encounter in our indoor spaces, it would probably be more suitable to go out in beachwear with an overcoat thrown over the top just to get us from our vehicle to the building. We make fun of teens these days who only wear shorts no matter the winter temps, but maybe they do it because their schools are overheated.
Now, let’s consider the reverse problem that besets us with the onset of spring. As soon as the building managers get the memo from NOAA, they flip the switch from “furnace” to “arctic” on the HVAC, and, voilà, your sleeveless ensemble renders you the victim of Batman’s nemesis Mr. Freeze, covered in goosebumps with icicles hanging from your nostrils.
Truth be told I don’t have any sleeveless ensembles, but if I wear something so slight as a short-sleeved polo during the spring and summer, I feel the need to go out of doors every 30 minutes to thaw out.
I am very open to the possibility that this is a “me” problem and not something you have to deal with. I will also say it’s not something that I only deal with in public spaces. In my own home I have given up complaining about thermostat settings and resorted to wearing what I need to in order to be comfortable.
This means I can be seen in a winter coat at the supper table in July. It also means that like the shivering octogenarian at the old folks’ home, I am often under a throw blanket while watching television during my 40 minutes of planned spontaneity each week. It’s super manly, and I know my Darling Beloved finds it irresistible.
Work fashion really isn’t an issue for me. I just keep wearing sports coats and suits all year long. If the building is too hot in winter, I can shed my jacket. If it’s too cold, which sometimes happens in our historic and drafty buildings, I can keep on my overcoat.
Though I have the Constitutional right to bare arms, (am I remembering that right?) I will not exercise that right in the summer without also having a light jacket. I prefer to think of it as athletic apparel rather than the ubiquitous windbreaker old men wear everywhere. Besides, I feel it’s vulgar and unsightly for me to have uncovered arms or legs in the workplace.
So as the rest of the world embraces the change of seasons with a heartfelt if not overused “Ah, spring,” I will keep my heavy coat on and use a lap blanket, thank you very much, and utter my sad sack refrain, “Oh… spring.”
New South Essays 