stroppy - adjective - informal, British: bad tempered (Google).
I don't know about you, but Memorial Day anywhere in the U.S. of A. is a favorite of mine. Maybe it is because it appears to be the climax of spring (if it is cool and rainy) or the exposition of summer (if it is pleasant and hot). In the Northeastern part of the country where I live, the world is green again. It is a joy to be outside as the stroppy, blood-thirsty mosquitoes haven't quite reached peak domination. In short, there is a discernible taste of perfection in the surrounding air. Yet because we are living this life wherein dualities persist, there might be an aftertaste of imperfection to be had as well. Yesterday, within five square miles of where I reside, two commemorative parades in two bordering towns of about the same population stepped in front of nature to exemplify positive versus negative.
The clash might have had something to do with perspective, though, since in the first parade, I marched and in the second, I spectated. The routes of both included the main drags of the municipalities, causing the cops to shut down traffic and cause a modicum of frustration. Both included the same ingredients for a typical, small-town Memorial Day parade: miscellaneous bands, makeshift floats on truck beds, familiar and unfamiliar organizations, antique cars (symbols of what we left behind technologically), unable-to-be- well-corralled Little Leagues and Scouts, whirring, whirling red fire trucks, intimidating military convoys, and police cars. However, the length of Parade One, held an hour earlier than Parade Two, was shorter in terms of participants and mileage.
What separated the two was attitude. From my point of view as a marcher in Parade One, I could sense the mood of the crowds filling the sidewalks of Broad Street quite easily. It was brimming with ebullience. The citizens of the first town had awoken from the depths of the pandemic, and like newborn babes, found something engaging and entertaining in something that had previously been staid. (There is nothing like renewed appreciation!) We marchers received and reflected back the enthusiasm as humans tend to do very well. In contrast, Parade Two down Park Avenue in the neighboring town lacked the bounce of Parade One; but to be fair, I had a limited view since I sat on the sidelines and could not experience the entirety of the onlookers at each junction on the boulevard. But from my viewpoint, the marchers did not connect with the audience and seemed road weary after few steps on their pedometers.
There is a bit of a takeaway here if you think of each parade as being a metaphor for life. Regardless of whether the route is short or long, or whether the contents of the parade (life) are more varied or not, if you dive into it as an enthused participant, living for each moment, your perspective will change. Things and people might appear rosier than they actually are, but who cares because you are immersed in the parade. On the other hand, if you sit idly by the sidelines or march distractedly, you may pick up on the negatives of the past and present and dwell in them. If you are optimistic, it is easy to get excited. If you are pessimistic, it is easy to become stroppy.
In the end, state of mind always seems to come down to choice. To mix in another, more familiar metaphor: If the glass is half full, there is more to consume and appreciate in life. At half empty, life can run dry pretty quickly. On the day after Memorial Day, remember to make the right decision in perception.
#word-to-words, #spilled thoughts, #vocabulary, #good advice, #personal essay, #vocabulary
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