The song “Time” by Pink Floyd is aptly titled, because its lyrics point to a dilemma we all face — as we get older, the clock seems to tick faster.
I find this to be generally true, but it also creates another dilemma. If February is the shortest month of the year, why does it seem like it takes forever to pass?
Today is the last of February’s 28 days, but it seems like about 40 have come and gone since we were hit by the worst blizzard in a dozen years at the beginning of the month. The foot or so of snow it left behind has since melted, but we woke up last Friday and Saturday mornings to two more minor rounds of snow.
From my perspective, it was just as irksome as any major storm.
It’s safe to say it’s been a long winter, and I say enough already. We Midwestern folks tend to enjoy the four seasons our location offers us, but at this point, can you even remember what a sun-splashed day with temperatures in the 80s feels or looks like? I’m trying to recreate it in my mind, but the only visions I can conjure are those of grayish piles of snow coupled with a slick sheet of ice wherever you can find the surface of the ground.
The arrival of Tuesday and March is something to celebrate, because it means December, January and especially February are behind us. March is known to come in like a lion and go out like a lamb. I can’t wait for the lamb — also known as spring — to arrive. How about you?
One way to stave off the cabin fever that strikes this time of year is to go on some sort of outing. I was fortunate enough to be part of two in recent days, and both times, the adventures lifted my spirits.
The first was a trip to the Kankakee Valley Theatre Association production of “The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee” two Sundays ago. “The Bee” closed its two-weekend run at Kankakee Junior High School last Sunday, and I’m sure those of you who witnessed it were also impressed by the efforts of all involved.
It’s been stated here before: If you want to see quality theater, it can be found right here in your own backyard. To learn more, visit the website www.kvta.org.
The second outing came last Saturday. It was a trip to Champaign for the men’s basketball game between the University of Illinois and Big Ten Conference rival Iowa.
Illinois won, and that was enjoyable to see. But the personal highlight came during a walk around the circular lobby that surrounds the arena.
From the rafters hang banners commemorating when star musical and stage acts performed at the Assembly Hall over the years. One in particular caught my eye. It recognized the six times the late Johnny Cash appeared there between 1969 and 1998.
Saturday’s date was Feb. 26, and had he lived, it would have been Cash’s 79th birthday. With that in mind, I honored him by singing the opening verse of “Folsom Prison Blues” in impromptu fashion.
“I hear that train a comin’. It’s rollin’ round the bend,” I sang aloud, oblivious to the fact someone might hear me.
They did. People were around, and one couple in particular gave me an odd look. Apparently, they thought it was mental instability, not cabin fever, I was suffering from.
Regardless of what ails me, I need a cure that only a break in the weather will bring. Bring on the 20 days of July. Yes, I know the calendar says that month features 31 days, but the glorious summer passes too fast me for me to believe it’s true.
Mike Frey is the metro editor of The Daily Journal. He can be reached at (815) 937-3343 or by e-mail at email@example.com
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