You know what’s crazy? I’ll tell you what’s crazy.™
Easter.
It is so many things to so many people.
Easter is pink and pastel blue. It’s chocolate bunnies and Easter egg hunts in bright green grass. It’s early morning church services and brunch with the folks.
It’s what Charleston Heston was looking for when he lead the slaves across the Red Sea and wandered into the desert for 40 years.
Today is a beautiful Easter Sunday. I knew that the moment I pulled back the drapes and let it wash over me.
As I sit here in my tranquil back yard, I am listening to internet radio. I have it on shuffle and songs from AC/DC to Crosby Stills & Nash are filling my soul.
The sky is wonderful and forever. There is one lone renegade cloud floating by but it has no intention of spoiling this fantastic day.
It is all ready in the mid 70s and thankfully there is a cool breeze. Birds are chirping, I think they like my musical selection.
Trace Adkins is on the radio. His voice is deep like gravel. He’s singing about the life of a truck driver, rolling all 18 wheels across state lines to get back to his girl.
Somewhere in the distance the Masters is beginning and the anticipation builds. Tiger has all ready blown up, kicking his clubs after a bad shot. The world is rooting for Phil Mickleson. It will ultimately be a Georgia boy named Bubba who will capture the hearts and minds of America.
As a Stone Temple Pilots song fires up, I think that Easter is about rebirth, renewal, redemption.
Earlier today, I saw my neighbors driving off to church. Their kids were in the back seat in yellow Easter dresses and pink ribbons in their hair.
That’s Easter.
Today I’m on my own. The kids are older and doing their own thing. I can’t help but remember the egg-strav-a-ganza.
I use to stay up till 2am hiding 300 plastic eggs. Some were hidden in obvious spots, some hidden so well, they disappeared for months into a black hole of Easter, so deep, the kids would find eggs at Christmas.
I use to put dollars in the special golden eggs and the kids loved finding these first.
They would come charging down the stairs, youngest to oldest. It was like a Nascar race at Bristol, fenders slamming the wall, rubber shredding, trading paint. It’s a wonder that the banisters contained their enthusiasm and I never had to go to the emergency room on an Easter Sunday.
I feel fortunate, I have good friends, and I’ve been invited to a couple of brunches today. But I am not inclined to leave this backyard, it is so delightful, so pristine, so perfect.
I feel like I am sun bathing in the church of solitude. I am totally happy, soaking in the universal spirit that – sometimes – a man can only find by himself.
I am excited by the randomness of the musical selections. Every 3 minutes a new song, a new vibe, a different thought.
Sam and Dave makes me think about my youthful exuberance living in Los Angeles.
I crack a Sol with just a twist of lime.
Refreshing.
Just then, the song fades to the Beatles.
It’s like life, it is a moment, a feeling, fade out – fade in.
Thank goodness, for a little more breeze as a trickle of perspiration beads on my brow.
As AC/DC blares out of my speakers, I stare through my RayBans, dark and protective. A whole lotta Rosie is an odd song for Easter.
“36-24-52 you could say she’s got it all.”
I light up a Dominican cigar. I’ve been saving it for months for just the right occasion. Since I don’t have a humidor, it is dry like rope and it takes some serious inhaling to get it to draw properly.
As I sip my Sol and inhale my stogie, I marvel at how nicely my crab grass looks cut low like the fairway at Augusta National.
All the while, Angus is ripping his six string like he is on a Highway to Hell. The song takes me back to my beach boy days in Carmel, CA.
I chuckle, feeling a sense of equanimity.
In honor of this day of renewal, I went to the local butcher and said meat man, Make my day.
He pointed to a New York Strip.
Wrap it up big fella.
I am excited. It’s a celebration.
I’m going to throw it on the grill later, all coated in its own special rub, and let it be my reward for believing in what the universe has to offer.
Just then, Another Buckcherry song. It’s provocative and irreverent, and graphic.
“i love the cocaine. i love the cocaine.” it’s blaring through my yard.
I initially feel a bit uncomfortable wondering what my pastel clad neighbors think. Then I think WWJD? Forgive and renew right?
People say New Year’s Eve is the time to make new deals with life’s gate keeper. New Years is the time to change your ways, and live your life differently, they say.
But honestly, I think that Easter is that time. The Bible says that Christ died for your sins. On Easter he rose so you could be saved.
Whether you’re a Jew, a Christian, a Muslim, an Atheist, or a Cleveland Browns fan, there’s a sagacious truth in all this.
As humans we are filled with flaws. Today is a chance to correct a measure of imperfection.
As I re-light my cigar for the 5th time, Janes Addiction roars through the speakers. So much power in such a tortured soul. It takes me back to Sunset Blvd in the early 90’s. Fast times, hot days and cool nights.
Those days are so long ago, but for me, just a memory away.
I stare into the computer screen and for a moment, when the light hits it just right, I see my own face staring back a me. I am older and wiser, but older and wiser than what?
I exhale and a puff of white smoke fills my field of vision. I feel like the Dahli Lahma sitting in my folding chair, in my own capacious sanctuary, not being told what to think or why to think it.
Freedom!
The journey is still so prevalent, so abundant. I feel like I am on a narrow mountain path, being lead by invisible Sherpas to a place of higher realization.
Everyone should visit this place.
“Why did you kiss the world goodbye,” the Jane’s Addiction singer bellows.
The Easter Bunny is now a melodic Led Zepplin buying me a stairway to heaven. It’s a musical masterpiece that examines the meaning of life and the journey we all must take. It’s an appropriate song on a day when birds chirp, Christ rose, and the stock market is more unstable than a humming bird’s flight path.
“ooh, it makes me wonder,” Robert Plant harmonizes. “there’s still time to change the road you are on.”
Just got a text from my daughter. “Happy Easter Father. We made eggs for you.”
A few words can go a long way on a day that means so many things to so many humans.
A Lowes commercial just played: Lowes, never stop improving.”
You could say the same thing about life. As long as you draw breath, try and improve who you are. Do it a little at a time, perhaps song by song. Whatever works for you on this day of rebirth, redemption and renewal.
And that is crazy.™