Skip to content


Brrrr!

In case you weren’t keeping track, yesterday was the vernal equinox, ostensibly the first day of Spring. Several things happened in honor of the holiday, most notably the fact that I woke my trusty Chacos from their months of hibernation (not counting their brief ascension in my wardrobe in Cancun) and strode boldly and stupidly outside in them. I could barely feel my toes by the time I got to work that morning, but at least I was doing my part to usher in the season and its leafy greenness. Around Christmas I had sworn an oath to a fellow bearded hippie to not shave before the equinox, but I broke that one in Cancun, so the day was robbed of another important milestone. The good people at Wells Fargo bank, nestled in a corner of the business complex my office building occupies, clued everyone into the significance of the day by passing out fresh-cut daffodils to passersby. People were confused by this — I saw several fumbling awkwardly with their wallet after being handed a flower. It didn’t help that the friendly folks looked like Greenpeace volunteers in their yellow slickers.

My coworkers voiced their opinions. Aaron: “Man, I hate equinoxes.” Tim: “Are you going to the parade in Fremont this weekend?” He was confusing equinox with solstice. Jason: “What’s an equinox?” It wasn’t nearly as tumultuous as the time I came into the office wanting to talk about sasquatch. That was an uphill battle, but they’re finally starting to come around.

Posted in Musings.


0 Responses

Stay in touch with the conversation, subscribe to the RSS feed for comments on this post.



Some HTML is OK

or, reply to this post via trackback.