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Will this be your best spring ever?

By Danny Tyree

A tiny portion of my “day job” at a farm-and-home cooperative involves writing radio commercials and on-hold phone messages.

More often than I like to admit, I get stuck for a closing zinger and settle for trite sentiments, such as “Let our friendly staff help make this your best hunting season/New Year/spring ever!!” (Note to self: next spring, remember to try something dignified like “Please, please make your money quit hibernating!”)

But I really do hope my readers enjoy the best spring ever. The opportunities certainly exist.

The glorious days following the vernal equinox are a time for shaking off winter sluggishness and displaying boundless creativity. Still haven’t taken down those Christmas decorations? With a little Daylight Saving Time ingenuity, you can transform Saint Nick into Moses in time for the annual rerun of “The Ten Commandments.” (“Let my people ho-ho-ho!”) Add fireworks, and you’ve got a head start on summer and Uncle Sam!

Whether you’re rekindling your relationship with your Significant Other or seeking “footloose and fancy free” new adventures, spring can be a promising time for romance. As Alfred, Lord Tennyson pointed out, “In the spring a young man’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love – although he assuredly keeps his porn stash handy for next winter.”

Yes, warmer weather means hunks and babes showing more skin. But don’t think that sparks will always fly in the time of seasonal allergies. (“Sorry, I’m more interested in the hanky than the panky. Ah-choo! Did anyone ever tell you your eyes look like limpid pools of pollen?”)

Birdwatchers certainly get a chance to grab their binoculars and spread their wings in spring. Maybe when the red, red robin comes bob-bob-bobbing along, they can get in on his class-action suit. (“What if I want to saunter or skip or amble? This bob-bob-bobbing gait is systemic speciesism!”)

Yes, Mother Nature works overtime in springtime. Puppies, kittens, lambs and other young animals frolic everywhere. (“I am Fluffy, king of kings. Look upon my cuteness and despair!”)

Of course, spring is a time for the “weekend squires” (as The Monkees termed them) to hop aboard their steeds (riding mowers) and resume manicuring, pedicuring or liposuctioning their lawns – to stay one step ahead of Neighbor Jones. (“Wait’ll Jones gets a look at…what? He passed away over the winter? But Welcoming Pines Cemetery has a nationally ranked groundskeeper! My six acres…his plot…noooooo!”)

I’m sure many of you are excited about Major League Baseball’s spring training. Maybe one of the players will accidentally discover an equation that keeps the games under two hours. Granted, such a rookie will doubtless keep Jimmy Hoffa company under the pitcher’s mound…

Astrophysicists are fascinated by the simultaneous presence of spring-cleaning campaigns and yard-sale shopping in spring. (“That recently cleared corner in the breakfast nook – it has become a black hole capturing knickknacks and thingamajigs in its gravitational field…”)

Walk a trail, plant a garden. Have that spring fling.

Sure, your excitement may be muted because a loved one who really enjoyed spring is no longer around to share it with you; but you could always hire a TV psychic and reconnect. (“I’m getting an image of you laughing… or singing…or cleaning the lint trap…on either weekends or weekdays…with your beloved aunt from your father’s side of the family or your mother’s side or maybe from a bottle of pancake syrup…”)

Danny Tyree welcomes email responses at and visits to his Facebook fan page “Tyree’s Tyrades.”

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