For a kind of neither here nor there month, April, it seems, has inspired a lot of people to various musings.
– O to be in England now that April’s there: Well, I like England though when I lived there April was rather chilly. And I do know and am very fond of an April and wouldn’t mind spending time in England with her, other than that she’s very attached as am I. So that’s out.
– April showers may come your way: Of course they will and you can’t do a damn thing about it. This was an Al Jolson tune. Evidently Jolson was kind of an egotistical jerk, and that’s about all I’ve got about him except he was ostensibly in the first ‘talkie’ though that isn’t entirely true, evidently.
– April is the cruelest month: Good old Thomas Stearnes who became the prototypical conservative, Anglican Englishman even though he was actually American, and wrote a very long and difficult poem, The Wasteland, an analysis of which I once did a university paper and didn’t get a brilliant grade for.
– April in Paris: Have not been in Paris in April, but evidently chestnuts there are in blossom, though ours aren’t yet, and it is April here as well.
– April Love: It’s supposedly “for the very young”, which seems a bit unfair. Love works at any age and any time of the year. This was a popular song by Jesus-lovin’ Pat Boone, a man of good voice but devoted much of his career to doing really white guy versions of songs done so much better by assorted black performers of the day. No black artist ever did April Love, however, as far as I know.
– “It was a bright, cold day in April and the clocks were striking thirteen.” Opening line to George Orwell’s relentlessly grim and arguably prophetic 1984. I’m a huge Orwell buff and have read virtually every world he ever penned, but i was always struck by the pessimistic note of that sentence, even though the pessimism is unstated you know it’s there.
– ‘April hath put a spirit of youth in everything’: I would be remiss to not offer something by Shakespeare here. So here it is. Something by Shakespeare.
I’m of mixed feelings about April. While it is spring, it’s not yet full spring with spurs on. It’s spring-lite. Blossoms are coming out and bulbs are in flower but it hasn’t yet come in with the vengeance of May when the world truly comes alive. “Hooray-hooray, it’s the first of May, outdoor screwing starts today.” No such ribaldry in an April quote because it’s too chilly yet to be courting twigs sticking into your bum.
April, evidently, can have a rather negative psychological effect on the vulnerable. The suicide rate evidently climbs, which seems odd since winter is over. I mean, if you’re going to off yourself, doesn’t wretched January or seemingly interminable February make more sense? Not the case, evidently. Psychiatric wards do a fairly thriving business in this that first full month of spring.
Generally though, I have no negative feelings about April. I love the spring as it’s my favorite time of year and today I am wearing shorts and that makes me feel just grand. I made it though another winter.