WRITING SPRING

Lolita: As soon as people hear Question of the Month they all come running to answer. Now get in a straight line, keep your hands to yourselves, and tell me what you do to define the beginning of spring? JUSTIN BERTHIAUME (the Chicken Slacks): On the first warm sunny day I will awake, head to the park, lie back in the new grass, and watch the clouds roll by… hey there’s a song there. *** NAT FREEDBERG (Upper Crust/Satanics): Well, I get seasonal affective disorder, so the first thing I do when spring arrives is I gently, gently let the hammer down on the cocked Smith & Wesson revolver I’ve been holding to my head for the past three months and very, very slowly remove it from my temple. Then I get off the couch, look out the window at the trees and flowers, and burst into long, wracking sobs. Am I crying or laughing? Hard to tell. After that it’s all “Take Me Out to the Ballpark” until around Thanksgiving. Lolita: That’s “Take Me Out to the Ballgame”—but the weirdest thing about that song is that people sing it when they’re already at a game. Now can I look at your revolver? *** ANNGELLE WOOD (WBCN/ Rock ’n’ Roll Social): I’ll be getting inked. I so have a hankering for a new tattoo. In the meantime, you can find me clearing dog crap from my yard that I lazily left to be covered by snow all winter. *** MIKE MALONE (Orb Mellon): I’ll clean up the winter’s crop of dog poop in my yard before my kids clean it up with the soles of their shoes then probably write a song about it. *** STEVE “ACE” McARDLE (Skull Hammer): Spring is here when I finally get to put away all of my Eskimo coats and break out my collection of old, worn (and comfortable) concert T-shirts from the last few decades. *** PETE SUTTON (Temper): Three things for me define spring: (1) burning all my winter hats and gloves; (2) going to the Harvard Square May Fair to guzzle beer in public; (3) listening to XTC’s Oranges and Lemons. Lolita: Thanks, we broke out Oranges and Lemons late in the winter and made believe there wasn’t snow on the ground. *** LINDA VIENS (Angeline): I will honor the pagan gods and goddesses by celebrating the spring equinox, dance around the fire, plant visionary seeds for the new season and give thanks for the ever renewing LIFE FORCE! *** BRIAN KING (What Time Is It, Mr. Fox?): For me dandelions signify the end of winter and the beginning of spring. I will stick dandelions behind my ears and roar because I’m both a dandy and a lion. *** PAUL ROBICHEAU (the Improper Bostonian): Happily head out to a show without a winter jacket. ***JEFF BRIGGETTE (Sonic Disorder): Every year when the weather gets warm, I like to take a walk around Kenmore Square, breathe in the fresh air, listen to the birds chirp, and try to remember the exact location of the Rat and all the other cool places that were once located in that area. Then I find some new, hip, yuppie bar to sit in, get drunk and tell everyone how much I hate them. That’s how I know it’s springtime in Boston. *** TIM FARRELL (Miskatonic): Well, I was gonna get blind drunk and run around naked through Davis Square but I already did that in February! Lolita: We saw you! We thought a snowman had come to life. *** MATT HUTTON (Birdwatchers of America): It won’t be spring for me until our record is heard singing out of stereos across the nation. Could be a long winter. *** GLENN WILLIAMS (Low Budget Records/ Urban Caravan): Playing outside. I love to sit out on the back porch breath in that inviting spring air and pick at my ukulele. Seems to spark up my creative stuff. I can almost feel it now. *** JIM HEALEY (We’re All Gonna Die) Dust off the grill, buy a metric shit ton of meat, and spend a day grilling. *** CHRIS RUCKER (WBCN): You know spring is coming right around the corner when you start to hear hockey playoff talk. Let’s hope the Bruins can continue this year’s good fortune and bring Boston Lord Stanley’s Cup. Another good sign is when you start to hear the chirping about the WBCN Rock ’n’ Roll Rumble! Lolita: Ahh! The Rumble returns—and I heard it’s back at the Middle East.