Sunday Roast: It's not spring when you're freezing to death

Sunday Roast: It’s not spring when you’re freezing to death

Mar 11, 2012 |  by  |  Art
About the author
Mark Visbeek is a designer, musician, superstar, and loves illeism. Always looking to create beautiful things, I'm often distracted by the amazing stuff happening around me. My most important weapons are limitless amounts of love and a faux-French accent.

It’s Sunday and you’re hungover, angry at the world, at bartenders and most of all: yourself. No worries, we feel the same. That’s why we’ve invented Sunday Roast. A bi-weekly conversational ‘column’. A written one. Online. Every other Sunday, Mark and Sabrina vent about the horrible burdens and ungodly mishaps of their 21st century life. Usually reserved only for bars, we bring our problems right into your home. Sharing is sexy, and a problem shared is a problem halved.. You are cordially invited to our pity party.

Previous Sunday Roast here

Dear Sabrina,

This was the kind of Sunday that I both love and loath. Finally, we are relieved of the strain of winter, ice and coldness, and we are granted a small preview of the upcoming spring. My favourite season by far. However, I despise the effect that these kind of days have on most people.

Every year when this day comes, the first day of Spring before actual spring, something is ignited in us. We are reminded of how good life can be, how beautiful our Amsterdam looks when she’s bathing in sunshine, and how happy we were last year, frolicking in the parks and having barbecues with our friends. Our soul is set on fire with the unstoppable desire to grab on to that feeling and pull it closer. We’re not letting this slip through our fingers, we want to feel that way again!

Please don’t tell me you go out and make a fool out of yourself by nearly freezing to death pretending it’s July.

So when I went outside early in the afternoon, the streets were abuzz with life and joy. Everywhere I looked there were people; walking their dogs, rowing their boats, jogging the block, and sitting in traffic jams on the bike path. All activities that I completely understand on a day like this, but there is another one that bothers me like crazy: people drinking white beers and prosecco on terraces with their winter-coats on.

FUCK. OFF. It’s not spring yet and you know it. You’re wearing a goddamn fur coat with three sweaters underneath. Don’t go acting like it’s all normal to drink cold white beers when you’re dressed like you’re going on a trip to the north pole. Who are you trying to fool? It’s not spring until you manage sitting there in a t-shirt without shivering for more than 5 minutes, so buff up and take the real challenge. Take off your coat and see if you still like your cold beer. I thought not.

I’m all for enjoying the gradual transition into spring and summer, but please don’t tell me you go out and make a fool out of yourself by nearly freezing to death pretending it’s July, Sabrina. Have patience.



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