Manic minnesota Spring

  I sit and wait for the temps to climb into the barely tolerable.  Just so I can ride.  Even a short distance would be acceptable.  As an atheist to the mantra of extreme sports, well, sports in general, sitting amongst a crowd of strangers just to watch others' invigorated activities when I could be out doing it myself isn't something in which you'll find me involved.  All I can think is, what a waste of time.

  Controversially, I don't buy this... pandemic.  If you agree with me then you already likely share the same reasoning I do. If you don't, I won't try to convince you otherwise.

  The fear which shut down states and nations has eliminated group activities by default.    Meaning sports in general have been abandoned.  People are forced to refocus on themselves.  In some ways it's good.  In others the damage to those who face loneliness, alcoholism, perhaps strife in the home may appear irreparable at this stage of the game.  Yet, like most aspects of the human condition, this too shall pass.  We can't help it.  It's part of our design.  The Bible says Noah was righteous in his generations.  Inferring that what is deemed righteous is not the same for all generations.  But I digress.

  Competition by proxy.  It's one thing to watch a sport if it imbues some sort of life lesson.  You can get that, certainly.  From a strong work ethic to how a person responds to a public humiliation when another player outdoes the first in an ambiguous way.  How does it apply to the observer's life?

  It's a story unfolding.  Theater in three or four timed paragraphs.  The problem is, are the lessons imparted really worth the observer's time or is the framework just filler with a few accidental social values?  Backstories.  They might even be interesting but they're still afterthoughts.

  Humans have a need to do things.  Sometimes, to be a part of something bigger.  Other times to take the mind off something beguiling.  So when spectator sports went away, people rediscovered the world outside their front doors.  Some walk.  Some run.  Some bike.  Some just stand in the naked sunlight, absorbing its natural radiance.  Others take the time to rebuild their homes.  To brighten their inner sanctums, as it were.  

  In an unintended consequence, the people have spoken with their liberties.  They've laughed in the face of fear, flung open front and garage doors and taken to the streets and parks.  You see it everywhere.   

  We may now be standing at the near end of a valley of shadows and darkness, but remember this is only a valley.  Time itself will force our march to the other side and up into the light once again.   People are ready for it; ready for the next phase of recovery.   Optimism and a measured fearlessness is the twinkle in the eye of every passerby on my rides this manic minnesota spring.