Spring Came, Rain Fell

This is a time for rebirth, apparently. My television started working again last night after six months of stubbornly malfunctioning. I have no idea why it did, but I'll take the boon. I've become more interested in my thesis lately, partly out of financial necessity. And then someone I overheard yesterday declared that today was "Jesus' rebirthday." I thought that was pretty clever, actually. I went to church services this morning, which rarely happens. It was nice, but all of the fidgeting children around me made me feel like I was at the chapel in a pediatric insane asylum. Something about repetitive, pointless motion makes me think a person has gone crazy. It reminds me of those animals at the zoo that just completely lose it and spend their entire waking existence running in a well-worn circular path around their tiny enclosure. A kid at church this morning was doing something very similar. And maybe he was a bit stir-crazy, but it's not entirely his fault. That's what kids do. They've got a lot of energy that they need to expend, and very few are able to do that through quietly contemplating the mysteries of the universe. Also, there is just the slightest chance that these children were hopped up on kiddie goofballs (also known as Jelly Beans).

I'm feeling rejuvenated lately, and not because of the weather. My apartment complex controls the heating/cooling, and they chose Friday to turn us from heating to air conditioning. Consequently I cannot turn the heater on in my apartment. That wouldn't normally be a big deal in April, except that it was 34 degrees yesterday morning. So, it's been a bit chilly in the old homestead. I tried to buy a space heater, but no one has any in stock, since it's April in Oklahoma. So, like a true pioneer, I burned a Duraflame log in my fireplace last night. Considering my luck with fire and accelerants, that was a big step for me.

So, I'm not sure why I'm feeling so chipper these days. I will tell you that I'm excited about performing this week. Tuesday at Othello's and Wednesday at the Loony Bin. I hope you all are enjoying these shows (or recordings thereof) as much as I am. Your feedback, criticism, and support have been invaluable. So, thank you. Thank you for listening, for sitting through shitty performances, for putting up with smoky bars and for driving to Midwest City.

By the way, you should listen to this song Club 8 - Spring Came, Rain Fell. It's a free download from Club 8's website, so it is TOTALLY LEGAL. I know that might be a turnoff for some of you. Anyway, if you like The Cardigans, Moonbabies, The Weepies or The Sundays, you'll probably like them. They're all Swedish and shit.

I See The Sky Above Me Like A Full Recovery

Fifteen years ago, I was diagnosed with Crohn's Disease. It was right around this time of year, actually. It started right before Valentine's Day, with some symptoms that I won't enumerate here, and ended up taking (as I recall) two months of fever, pain and fear to diagnose. I was thirteen years old at the time.

I try not define myself by negative space, but that was my childhood trauma and that was what informed my adolescence. That's what turned me into who I am today. If you think back, you'll find that moment when the ground just fell away beneath you, when you realized that Mom and Dad were not all-powerful, and that the world wouldn't stop because something shitty happened to you. I almost feel like my life was split in two at that point. There's a thirteen-year-old me, stuck forever in the fear and pain of that time, and another me that was born the day I found out what was wrong with my body and what I could do to fix it.

I can't help but remember that bifurcation each spring.

I absolutely love spring. Springtime in Oklahoma makes the rest of the year tolerable. I have yet to see anything in this world as beautiful and terrible as the sky in March, April, and May. This dark, soft grayness just hangs in the sky, blotting out the world for miles in the middle of the day and the sun, no longer the harsh and angular tormentor of the winter months, falls soft and warmly upon the deep green of cross-timber foliage. It is birth, it is strength, it is verdant and beautiful. I've never missed a springtime in Oklahoma in 28 years. I try not to dwell on the death and destruction that follows so swiftly after that plush gray curtain in the distance.

But spring has held another meaning for me for the past fifteen years. Spring and Autumn are the times when I'm most likely to fall ill now. Maybe it's allergens in the air, maybe it's the changing temperatures. Who knows? For whatever reason, these seasons come tinged with dread. Will this be the year that I lose my colon? Will this be the year that my body no longer responds to my medication? Who knows? The thing about a chronic condition is that it's, well, chronic. I will never experience a full recovery. The condition I'm in, and I'm freakin' ecstatic about my condition, is the best that I will ever get. I will never wake up and suddenly not have Crohn's Disease. There will never be a year when I see that first wall cloud off in the distance without feeling a pang of fear.

We all have trauma, and triggers that bring us back to that pain. Maybe it's the book you were reading when you found out your Grandmother had died. Maybe it's song you sang right before the car crash. Maybe it's the lotion that Buffalo Bob made you use. Who knows?

I do know that the thirteen-year-old me is utterly useless at this time of year. He's nothing but fear and self-pity. But fifteen-year-old Seth is a different story entirely. He's handling things a lot better than he used to. And he's getting better at it every year.