April 23, 2007

Like It Or Not, Spring Brings Out the Skin

OK, the ice is gone from the lake. The mounds of grimy black snow that have been stacked on either side of the driveway since December have melted away. Crocuses and tulips are poking their heads out of the dirt and sniffing around. We’ve harvested and processed this year’s crop of slush nuggets.

For those of you who may have missed my ruminations on slush nuggets in years gone by, these are those little treasures, ranging from hub caps to panty hose that accumulate under the snow all winter. They emerge as the snow melts, along with those crocuses and tulips, to provide us with a sure sign of spring - plus a fascinating study in social anthropology. You can just picture the saga of tender unrequited love and betrayal told by the discarded bar coaster containing the message, scribbled on the back in lipstick, “Jane Doe – 1-800-GET-BENT.”

But what I really wanted to talk about is another, more insidious thing that comes out in the spring – skin.

It is my theory that people just naturally want to be naked. After all, we are born that way. In fact, from a certain point of view (specifically, the point of view of the average hormone-laden 13-year-old boy), everybody is naked all the time – just mostly, it’s under our clothes. And we are all naked when we indulge in the most pleasurable experience possible for human beings. I refer, of course, to taking a shower.

So it’s just natural that after spending several long months swathed in layers of thermal long johns and big wooly socks, we all feel a need to unwrap ourselves a bit and air out some of that repressed skin.

This unveiling takes place in stages, since some people seem to experience more intense skin repression anxiety than others. On the first sunny day in March, you’ll spot a teenage boy looking all bored and tropical in baggy shorts and a t-shirt, chatting with a couple of teenage girls in tiny skirts and tank tops. These early enthusiasts have apparently overlooked the fact that the actual temperature is 39 degrees, although their first clue would be that they can’t hear each other talk for the chattering of teeth.

Given another month and 30 degrees, a lot more of us will start uncovering. For some of us – those of us who did not get to spend half of January in the Caribbean – this is often not a pretty sight. Those arms and legs that have been hidden from the sun since Thanksgiving radiate with a sort of fish belly pallor that can actually damage unprotected eyes.

But spring is short, and we’ll soon have our wardrobes back in summer form. Before long we’ll be treated to the sight of a hefty mom wearing a string bikini top and short-shorts, strutting through the parking lot while her teenage daughter hangs back in the car, desperately searching under the seats for something she can use as a disguise.

Maybe there are a few good things about winter.

  © 2007, Michael Ball