Point of View: Gloomy Gus

A woman overtaking me as I  walked up — or is it down? — Main Street the other day said in passing that it was a wonderful day.

Indeed it was, I said, “but I hear it’s supposed to get colder next week.”

Later, walking along the shady streets in Springs with Mary, she remarked on what a wonderful day it was. “Yes, but the hours are darkening,” I said.

“Will you stop. Do you have to be such a Gloomy Gus?”

“I’ve been in mourning ever since the Pirates lost that wild card game. Bases loaded, one out in the sixth, Marte at bat. . . . It could have turned around then, it could have turned around completely. . . . Ah well . . . it is a beautiful day. And if tomorrow is not, it’s a joy to be with you. You’re a thing of beauty forever, as Brett Rader said when Johnna posted a photo of us with the baby on Facebook. 

Still, there’s no denying the leaves are falling, that the outdoor shower will soon be a ruined choir, and that the birds will be left to stipulate in the snow, as we, if the past is prologue, fall and crack our heads upon the ice.

Well, bring it on. As Joey McKee told his charges recently, football is life — you get knocked down, you brush off the tire shavings and get back up. Ah, resilience. Give me the seasons. Who wants to live in a place where the weather is unvaryingly fine?

(Thousands do, if Temecula, Calif., where we recently spent two weeks, is an example.)

“It’s like Naples with mountains,” I said as Mary and I drove down the main mall-flanked drag.

I was yearning for the cold and damp then, and now that I have them (another week and the spiders would have taken over) I’m yearning for . . . what? Spring? But we have no spring here. Summer then? Never. Today is rather nice. The late afternoon light is golden and the air is fresh. That ought to be enough, Gloomy Gus.