Barry

There was (apparently) a barred owl in New York that drew the attention of people because of her (researchers said it was a her) comfort with humans. She died last week, and the New York Times published a really lovely story about what she meant to the community. 

It's not every day you read a moving tribute to an owl. But I highly recommend. (Also: The photo of her gazing at her reflection is sublime.) 

On this day

Four years ago this morning, I called in sick, hopped a plane, and flew to Cleveland to go to a parade.

The Cavs had won the National Championship earlier in the week, the first time a Cleveland team had won since the Indians took the World Series in 1948. The rest of my family was downtown to celebrate that night -- my brother had driven in from D.C. -- and I felt left out. So I bought a plane ticket.

Getting on that plane -- with hundreds of other people who were doing the same thing I was -- was one of the happiest moments I can remember. I'm not exaggerating when I tell you the joy and excitement were palpable. People cut short vacations to be there. They canceled obligations. We just all wanted to share the experience.

It turns out that parades are kind of a mess. Or maybe it had just been so long since we'd had one? There were more than 1 million people (can you imagine that now?) cramming ever closer to see the local stars and dignitaries. People pressed so close they clogged the parade route. It was slow and hot and really kind of ridiculous.

But it was so much fun.

I was back in time to go to work the next morning, no one the wiser. And I can't begin to tell you what a wonderful choice it was. I felt so connected to everyone else on that plane, in the street. It was just straight-up joy, the likes of which I hadn't seen before and haven't seen since.

If the Browns or Indians manage the same feat, I'm sure it'll be just as crazy. But there's something about that first victory in my lifetime -- in the lifetime of so many! -- that will stand out forever.

Orchestra

One of my old co-workers tweeted out a link to a Cleveland radio station that's playing an hour of music from the Cleveland Orchestra over lunch each day. I was able to listen for about 30 minutes. And let me tell you -- it just made me exhale.

I don't think a lot about classical music (it's fine!) but I love the Cleveland Orchestra, one of the best in the country. It was so refreshing to listen to. And it reminded me that at least once when I was working in Cleveland (and maybe more than once?) I was able to sneak out of work with some coworkers to listen to one of their rehearsals. It was a great experience, watching them work toward perfection.

If you also want to listen at lunch, do so here.

Cavaliers

Cleveland sports teams, historically, collapse. There is a laundry list of moments where one team or another had victory in its grasp, only to collapse spectacularly and leave fans -- and a city -- heartbroken.

Then, in 2016, the Cavaliers won the NBA championship. And whatever words I use to tell you how amazing that was will be insufficient. It was a moment of joy I honestly never thought I would experience. You may think I'm crazy, but if you're from Cleveland, you understand.

I had saved the final game of the series on my DVR and would watch it when I was having a bad day -- as a reminder of that moment and a reminder that what is in front of you is not necessarily forever.

I know I'm not the only one, but it definitely made me smile today to see that in action in my Twitter feed, where someone posted the final seconds of the game and the ensuing celebration.

Oh, it lifts my mood and makes me smile. And as so many people are missing sports right now -- for the sports themselves, for the connections they create, for so many other reasons -- I was so glad to see 30 seconds of a four-year-old basketball game. Happier than I would have expected such a thing to make me.

Downtown perks

My office is in the 'burbs, and though they're densely populated 'burbs, they're not very walkable. And while there are some things that can lead to grins in suburbia, you'll notice that I was a much more prolific writer when I was working downtown. (Albeit in another state.)

So a change in job duties has led me to spend more time downtown. And that's led to a couple things that I want to share with you.

First, taking public transportation to work means more time with books. And more time with books always makes me happy.

Second, I saw someone rolling a Coke machine down the street on a dolly yesterday. Just pause for a minute and imagine a vending machine walking down the road. It's a beautiful thing.

Third, I ran into two people I know on the street last week -- both in the same day, at that. One was a new friend who was also working downtown, and we'll hopefully grow closer and see each other more after running into each other. The other is my future sister in law, who was downtown to get license plates for her car.

Unless you work in the same building as someone, you're just less likely to run into them on the street in suburbia.

Of food trucks and other joys

The sun is shining, the grass is green and Cleveland now has food trucks.

We've had hot dog stands on many downtown corners for quite some time, but this is different. Not only is it something I can eat (street food + vegetarian friendly hadn't previously been the case), but there's a bit of mystery in where the truck will be on what day, and whether it can be found.

Earlier this week, I tracked down the first truck, an Asian-inspired one (though my menu won't convince you that's the case) where I had delicious gazpacho, tater tots, a veggie taco and a sushi push-pop. Yum.

There was bright, beautiful graffiti near where it was parked, and a gentleman with a long gray braid down his back on the trolley I took over. Another word about the braid: it petered out so slowly, and at the end, was simply several strands that must have wanted to stay together.

Of April

I certainly didn't mean to neglect the spreading of joy in April; it was certainly a very joyful month. In brief, some things that made me smile:

I went to the wonderful wedding of a wonderful friend, had a mini-college reunion and met several of the bride's friends, all of whom are fantastic. I ate a lot of delicious Austin food, snagged a Nancy Drew Mad Libs and found a pretty snazzy gift for my sister and a good friend. Eventually, they'll go in the mail.

I learned my parking attendant's name. It's Ray.

I went to the Cleveland Orchestra with friends. The orchestra is amazing. Severance Hall is beautiful. And jaunts to see Avenue Q and August: Osage County were similarly (if separately) fantastic.

I used the word tintinnabulation in a story. I scooped the competition in another (big) story, and the big bosses noticed. I managed to start a running joke, of sorts, that's made it into the paper three times now. It has also garnered me many pens and left me amused.

I reconnected with an old friend. I spent some quality time with an older friend. I had super, if all-too-brief, moments with more recent friends who went out of their way to say hello.

I hope your Aprils were as sunny.

At the movies

Last week, the Cleveland International Film Festival came to town. It was a pretty intense affair with some fantastic movies that I saw and many I did not.

I got to go to the opening film and a series of shorts, in addition to a normal evening movie after work. And although it wasn't the best movie that I saw, the best part of the festival was the chance to go see an hour-long film at lunchtime. There's just something wonderful about going to a midday movie that makes you feel like you're playing hooky in a wonderful sort of way.

Next year, you should follow suit.

Again with the fog

No pictures for you today, but I will tell you that the fog this afternoon was subtle. It was as if you woke up bleary-eyed, without your glasses, and rubbed your eyes against the blur. It made bridges fade into nothing, as if they were Photoshopped away. It gave the air a certain brightness.

It also felt as if you were walking into an industrial freezer upon stepping outside: that cold blast, sustained, the air unmoving, an eye-opening chill but not an unpleasant one.

Hello, sunshine!

The best part about winter is that it begets spring. And this past week, spring arrived -- at least for a little while.

This means bright sunlight, melting snow and people wearing shorts and short sleeves. Broad smiles. Windswept hair. Drinks on patios. It's awesome.

I ate lunch outside the past few days, sitting on the stoop of my building with a book. This evening, I managed to spare a few minutes for an art walk -- something much harder to convince yourself to do if it's an art trudge. Yesterday's warm weather inspired a trip to Coventry and some super conversation.

You Southerners -- with your 70-degree Marches -- may think we're crazy. But I'll leave you with the weather report from the college radio station this morning:

"Exceptionally warm... 63 degrees... unbelievable!"

And that pretty much sums it up.

Optimism

On the back of a truck for a cleaning service:

Vehicle makes frequent stops... hopefully!

It was also decorated with pictures of Leprechauns flitting about.

Zebras

Thanks to Andi (and later, a string of amusing Facebook updates), I was tipped off to this tale of a zebra run amuck in Atlanta's streets.

Alone, this is amusing. But what makes it fantastic is the fact that this is the third zebra story to come out of Atlanta in as many years.

Take the case of Evidence, who was found grazing on the side of the highway, or Barcode, who was zebra-napped as a college prank. Something about Atlanta calls for zebra freedom, it seems.

What would you name your zebra? I think I would alter a friend's idea slightly and go with Red.

Look, up in the sky!

There's just something so wonderful about the Goodyear blimp hanging over the skyline.

Black and white and read all over

First, a little bit about me.

I am not a morning person. I always mean to wake up early enough to take the bus to work, where I can leisurely read the paper, but then I do not. Instead, I drive to work.

But I still want to know the morning's news. And since there are many traffic lights on my commute, I read the paper on my way in. Mostly when I'm stopped at said lights, but so as not to lose my place, I drive with the paper in one hand, in my lap, where it sometimes flops over the steering wheel. This is how I arrive most mornings.

I work in a building without a parking lot, and frequently chat with the guy at the block-away lot whom I pay each morning to watch over my car. Mostly, it's just a good morning, but sometimes we wish each other happy weekends or talk about traffic. Or he warns me that I really should get up early enough to take the bus because there's some concert or game and the cost of the parking lot will go up tremendously the next day. I like him very much for giving me these warnings. We also occasionally laugh at the other drivers who slip on the ice when they get out of their cars. But that's just because people falling is funny, as long as they aren't hurt and they aren't you.

But this morning, I was a little nervous. You see, I was going to be on the radio to discuss a story I had written. And while I knew what there was to know about my story, I wanted to be well-informed about the stories the other guests were discussing, too. So while the paper was on my lap as I drove in, I was not reading it so as not to clutter my mind with information that would not be useful for on-the-air.

Of course, then, it's today that parking lot man chooses to tell me: "I love how you're always reading the paper."

I laughed, and told him it was the only time I had a chance. And wished him a good day.

It eased my pre-radio jitters.

Orange you glad?

I was walking into work yesterday when a guy holding his lunch passed me -- a container of pasta in his left hand, an orange in his right.

And as he walked, he tossed the orange up and down, again and again, into the air and back to his hand.

It looked so effortless. I would have dropped the orange.

Tresses

I discovered last weekend that my brother and I have practically the same haircut. His is just slightly shorter. He did not think this was as funny as I did.

And today I saw a guy with curly, chin-length hair dash between a store and his car. His hair bounced. It was fantastic.

Oh, shovelers

I've been meaning to say so for days, but people with snow shovels, plows and salt have been making my life so much happier as of late. Walking on a clean sidewalk and driving on a cleared street -- the joy that comes from that mid-winter cannot be overstated.

I didn't have my camera with me when I ventured a little further into snowbelt territory today, but the trees had what looked like a foot of snow on their branches. In many cases, it looked like someone had tossed a white sheet or a big, fluffy blanket over the trees -- you could just see the shape of them and the tips of branches underneath a glistening pile of snow.

On Dasher, on Dancer...

Better, even, than seeing a mounted policeman?

A mounted policeman whose horse is wearing a Santa cap.

And as an added bonus: a Prius with the license plate "MO MPG."

'Tis the season

The past couple days, I've come across workers stringing lights on downtown trees and buildings. This is nice, first of all, because it's starting to be dusk-verging-on-dark when I leave work, and the lights add some brightness. Second of all, I thought it was neat that the lights are on when they're strung.

Presumably, this is so they can make sure the whole string is working or see that they're appropriately spaced as they're being hung. But I liked it because it was just neat to see a long string of light move so elegantly.

Shiny objects

I got complimented twice at Starbucks today, by two different baristas. One said he liked my necklace (which is an abalone shell that I got for my bat mitzvah, though I can't for the life of me remember who it's from -- and now that's kind of bothering me; it looks vaguely like an oilie sticker -- who remembers those?), then asked the other barista if he liked my necklace. Barista two was not impressed.

Barista two, though, thought my credit card was pretty sweet. It has a picture of a daisy (or something) on it, and was apparently different enough to stand out.

Does anyone else get compliments on their credit cards? That happens to me more than I think is normal, but maybe people are just super-impressed by unusual card markings.