It's the media-popularized time of the year known as March Madness. Once again, despite war and accidents, despite car crashes and violent smashes, despite missing children and murdered mothers, despite life and death proceeding as always, the most important question on the public's mind is "How are your brackets?"
Some media outlets are brave enough to query "What do you think of March Madness?" The only acceptable response is of course what great fun it is and how it is looked forward to since last April, I presume.
Oh, they will occasionally cite a negative response so that the rest of the world can chuckle and shake their head at whatever the poor sap is missing.
March Madness used to be about cabin fever, when winter and being confined made us crazy to get out and just go outside and do anything. Or stay inside and commit murder. March madness was the grass growing and the sap flowing and life surging against the icy bonds.
This modern definition of the term is to stay sitting inside, huddled around (or worshipping at the feet of) an electronic device while watching others run and jump and play. The worshippers then scribble and draw patterns on paper. Sometimes this is for the privilege (?) of being right; often it is for the exchange of other pieces of paper, usually green.
March Madness indeed.
When the green is showing beneath sludge and snow, peeking out from odd corners,;
when the sun pours gold upon all who venture out; when daylight outlasts the dark night' why does anyone WANT to remain huddled in allegiance to a radiant square? When the air is fresh and clean and by breathing in you can taste the tang of green-and-growing things, why does anyone want to remain in a place that reeks of months of confinement? When spring is in the air, it is madness indeed to remain in stasis.
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