The Monday After The First Saturday In May

Posted: May 8th, 2017 | Filed under: Culture, Ruminations, Today's Lesson Learned | 1 Comment »

Some days are traditionally and annually more difficult than others.

Perspective: I used to get really depressed at halftime of the Orange Bowl, when it was always played on New Year’s night. For decades I’d always had the last week of the year off, and it would hit me hard that the next morning’s wake up meant: Back To Real Life.

So has become the Monday after the First Saturday in May.

Even on a sunny, crisp day like today, when I’m blessed with few responsibilities.

There’s the fact that Derby is over. I don’t go to the track. Or the parade. Or the boat race. Or even to hear Drive By Truckers, though I was well intentioned to do so. But I love the energy around town, and know it is the most glorious time of the year for many in our burg.

We even had the sun shine through late Derby afternoon. Thanks to the spirit specters of Matt Winn and Irvin S. Cobb. Which beauteous weather lasted through Sunday for the brunchers and party hearty crowd that was still full tilt one more day.

And, for others like me, this Monday marks the end of my year’s gravtitational pull, the New Orleans JazzFest. I only went first weekend, ceding to the inevitable Old Folks Boogie, from which I naturally suffer thanks to the ever accelerating “maturation process.” Even though I wasn’t present in New Orleans this weekend as I was last, I still kept watching the clock, finally finding some relief at 8:00 Sunday, when I knew the last notes had been played, that the bon temps roulez had expired.

Thus, we come to today, in the Printemps of some disconsolation.

It really matters not that it’s glorious outside, that honeysuckle aromisizes the air, that the warmth and recreation of summer is just ahead. Today there is the let down that comes about when too much anticipation is focused on a singular event, and it passes.

Fortunately it is fleeting, not terminal.

(I am reminded of 1976. That was the year of my first JazzFest. I went down for a weekend. Then called work and advised I was slipping off to the beach for a week. Then called again and advised I’d be staying for the second weekend of JazzFest. Then returned for Derby week. All of which was fueled — in copious quantities — by the inebriants of the day. Even attended a big bash on the Sunday after Derby. Dealing with that Monday let down turned out not to be a problem. I went to sleep Sunday evening. Didn’t wake up until Tuesday morning.)

Life is a more than a bit calmer these days. Thanks to sobriety, much easier to remember.

But there is this day, this Monday, this 24 hours of out of sorts.

I know I’m not alone. Though we may have a boffo vacation plans, the Mavericks to look forward to in a couple of weeks, tennis night, getting the kids off to summer camp, trips to Polly’s Freeze, and tickets for Tedeschi Trucks in Indy in July, today is still hard.

So I made a list. Chores I’ve been putting off for a month or more. Went to the grocery. And the fruit and veggie market. Took not one but two pairs of glasses to be fixed. Paid some bills.

And am attempting to vent enough in this space to fill the whole in my stomach.

I am grateful for so very much, for the small bounty that life has blessed me with. For the many Derbys I’ve attended, and the parties and the bon homie that it brings to our burg. And for JazzFest, thirty of which I’ve now been able to savor.

So now, having spilled it all out here as we tend to deal with emotions these days, expositing in social media, I feel more calm.

Soon I’ll be off to a regular Monday evening gathering, dinner with pals afterwards.

The rhythm that is my countenance is redeveloping.

There shall be more, God willing.

But until then, there is the glory of right now.

May we all have many happy returns of this moment.

— c d kaplan

One Comment on “The Monday After The First Saturday In May”

  1. 1 Ken said at 6:20 pm on May 8th, 2017:

    Merry maudlin Monday

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