Words and Thoughts — September 14, 2023

Hello again, alleged readers! A very good friend of mine once enthusiastically marched around, swinging pillows together for visual effect, and declared unilaterally that it was “Time for the Lemon Festival.” We had never had a Lemon Festival. And unfortunately, I found out, there were no plans for a Lemon Festival. It was a ruse. Perhaps my friend felt there hadn’t been enough declarative statements made yet on that day, and to fill the void, he declared the Lemon Festival.

I often wonder what wonderment would’ve awaited us at the Lemon Festival. Probably lemons.

Someone gave me a javelin once. I was not good at throwing a javelin, and I tell you what, I didn’t get good. No matter how many times I watched videos of Teo Pitkämäki at the 2007 Osaka Championships, I just could not wrap my mind around properly throwing the thing. I also couldn’t wrap my hands around the javelin. Most people think my thumbs are opposable, they’re not, they just look opposable. Tape your thumb to the side of your hands and try to throw a lawn dart, let alone a javelin. It’s not pretty, especially at the picnic I was at.

Unable to “get good” at javelin throwing, I began to contemplate things that the javelin itself would not be good at in order to cheer myself up:

• Pool toy — Javelins are awful in just about ANY situation involving any type of pool, especially inflatable pools.
• Lawyer — A javelin is inanimate, and therefore unsuited to the duties required of a lawyer.
• Not putting holes in things — Javelins are horrible at not putting holes in things (see pool toy).
• Being a discus — Oil and water over here.

As the summer that I had the javelin wore on, my frustration with the javelin began to wear off. I still wasn’t good at it, but I got it to the point where I could chuck it further than I could lob a gallon tub of pudding. Autumn was set to bring with it new javelin personal bests. Excitement abounded.

Alas, it was not meant to be. I lost the javelin. Not misplaced mind you, lost, in a divorce. I don’t even think it was my divorce!

Now, along with all of the joys that autumn brings, like longer nights and also shorter days, it also brings with it a tinge of sadness. A melancholy longing, not for the javelin itself, rather for the thrill of running around, yelling, and throwing sharp objects. On crisp autumn mornings, as the grass glistens with what might be frost, or could be dew, gently wobbling in a breeze that wafts the slightly sweet, and beautifully bitter, but never acrid aroma of deciduous leaves leaving their branches; the thought always arises: “Dammit, I’d like to be yelling and throwing something sharp right now!”

And now, autumn is back. Staring down summer as summer sulks away. Autumn boasts of its arrival with the same swagger I’d expect if it had just taken a javelin away from summer. Perhaps this autumn will be different though, at least that’s what I hope. Truly, when someone says, “I really like fall”, I’d love to not have to say, “Not me, I hate fall, because fall is the season that it was when I got my javelin taken away”.

This autumn might just be different. Who knows, maybe there will be a Lemon Festival.