"Monday Not Madness"

Not madness, just Monday — and the world slightly ajar.

Imagine walking down the street on a beautiful spring morning. March is ending, April is near—even if the air hasn’t gotten the memo yet. It’s chilly, but in your mind it’s already spring. The cool air tingles against your face, waking you up a little more with every step. You’re out early, running errands, enjoying the quiet. Maybe you need half & half or a Bavarian roll—nothing urgent, just enough purpose to justify the stroll.


You’re feeling good, wearing fewer layers than you have in weeks. There’s a briskness to the air, like that blast you get when you open a freezer door in a warm kitchen. You cut through the garage, your usual shortcut from Park Street to Nelson Avenue. That’s when you notice the same car you saw before—back passenger door still hanging open.


This time, curiosity nudges you closer. You wonder if someone’s inside—passed out, or worse—though you’d never expect to stumble onto a crime scene. You’ve heard stories about Peekskill, sure, but you’ve never witnessed anything yourself. Still, you stay alert, even on the safest-seeming days, and especially if you indulged a bit the night before.


No one’s there. The car is quiet except for a baby seat in the back. You picture a parent juggling bags, bottles, and a stroller, forgetting to close the door in the morning rush. It happens. You’ve left your own front door open before. After making sure everything seems fine, you gently close the car door and continue on your way.


As you walk, your thoughts drift to March Madness. You haven’t kept up with the tournament this year, but seeing that UConn shocked Duke and is heading to the Men’s Finals made you smile. And on the women’s side, you’re eager to see whether South Carolina can push past TCU tonight and make their seventh Final Four since 2015. There’s something about these spring rituals—morning walks, basketball upsets, the sense of new beginnings—that brings a little extra energy to the season.