Apr. 16th, 2017

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“Why is Easter?” asked one of my Asian ESL students.

“Uh – it’s the day Christ rose from the dead,” I explained. Thinking: I’m really not the right person to explain Easter to you.

“Christ?” asked my Asian ESL student.

“Jesus,” I said.

“He has two names?”

“Uh. Not exactly.”

“So why are there rabbits and eggs? And candy?”

Because at a time when more and more Americans are trying to implement healthier lifestyles, the sugar industry must reassert its hegemony over human appetites somehow, I thought. But did not say. Instead I said, “Easter is also a celebration of spring!”

“And eating candy is a spring-time activity? Then why is Halloween?”

“So!” I said brightly. “Do you understand that gerund homework I gave you last class? Did you have any questions about it?”

###

Easter is by far my least favorite Christian holiday. I’m down with the symbolism – the Hanged Man, birth (hence eggs), rebirth. And bunnies are one of my totem animals.

Timing-wise, though, it’s just such an obvious attempt to co-opt Passover.

###

There was a point in my life when I was paid an enormous amount of money to do something I’m very good at doing.

That gig lasted a few years but eventually fell apart because the media conglomerate for which I was working had an internal culture that might best be described as England during the War of the Roses. Alas! I was Jane Shore.

Most of my adult life, though, money has been problematic. I spent a good chunk of it married to someone who refused to get a job – which added to the financial burden.

These days, I’m mostly o-kay in the $$$ department. My pensions from the media conglomerate and social security are small, but then my needs are small. Really, the only expensive thing I like to do is travel.

Every once in a while, I face a situation, though, where more money would be a good thing. These generally have to do with the car. I suspect I’m facing one of those presently – and I’m thinking, Ugh, and I’m thinking, Do not use the credit card – pay cash! Which means now that tax season is over, I must buckle down and put in a week’s solid labor at the Scut Factory. Maybe even two weeks' solid labor.

Life is about to get incredibly dull for the next fortnight.

There’s really no sense in complaining. It is what it is, and in general life is good: I get to think my own thoughts (which is more than most people do), and in my day-to-day life, I’m surrounded by people who are affectionately inclined toward me – even if they wouldn’t have a clue what I was talking about if I put those own thoughts into words.

I managed to scramble back into the middle class – which considering how far off that track I found myself nine years ago is actually a pretty major accomplishment.

To advance any further than this would have to involve some kind of coup – like winning Lotto (but then I’d have to buy a Lotto ticket!) or writing a mega-best-selling book (but then people would have to want to read it.)

###

I will reward myself by spending as much time outside as possible as this spring grows daily more fabulous. The light! I could drink the light! And I’m so enchanted by the parade of flowers on the East Coast. In California, you know, everything grows all the time. But the plants always look – I dunno. Dingy. Scraggley.

The trees are showing a crayon-y blur of green at the tips of their branches. Not leaves but those peculiar little tree flowers. (No close-up focus on my camera phone, alas!)

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