It happens about the same time every year. This time was no different. I never seem to learn. All it takes is just one morning where I don't wake up with my eyelids frozen together and it strikes me: spring fever.

It happened again last week. I woke up to an unfamiliar blue sky with a spherical glowing object hovering in it. I took a moment to recollect the sun.

Clamoring for the radio, I listened eagerly for a weather report and the weatherman announced it for me loud and clear --42 degrees. A virtual heat wave.

Wasting no time, I climbed out of bed to prepare myself for the new season. Spring had arrived.

First my wardrobe. Winter wear now was obsolete. Making room for more appropriate apparel, I pulled the turtlenecks and bulky overcoats from the closet.

Next to go were scarves and my collection of unmatched gloves. Smiling, I tossed out one of those horrible hats with an awful ball on top that looked like a worn out pom-pom.

I moved to the chest of drawers, replacing the thermal long johns with Hanes low-rise briefs. Out with the wool sweaters too. No more smelling like a moth ball. I wasn't going to miss it at all.

I happily stashed these winter memories into boxes and stuffed them under the bed, well out of sight.

Donning my most tasteless pair of JAMS and a sleeveless t-shirt, I turned my attention to gathering the necessary accessories.

Off to purchase magical lotions and wondrous chemical concoctions that pledged to keep my skin tan, soft and protected from the harsh rays of the sun.

Easy-squeeze, no-drip containers lined the shelves of the drug store like rows of soldiers ready to battle drying, peeling, cracking, burning skin.

Some boasted their greaselessness. Others promoted that they were extractions from exotic herbs and tropical fruits whose names could not be pronounced. Some were pretreatment formulas. Others were post-treatment. All were hypoallergenic.

Making my way to the checkout, I eyed a newly arranged display of kites. I could not pass them without picking one up. I don't know why I should have. I never had much success with them in the past.

While everyone else's soared elegantly in the breeze, my string inevitably tangled itself around various appendages of my body. I always managed to look like I just ran through a clothesline. Still, it was a spring ritual that should not be overlooked.

Acquiring a pair of the darkest sunglasses available provided the finishing touch: the Don Johnson look. I was ready at last.

When I arrived at the HUB lawn it already was dotted with partially disrobed men and women all too anxious to expose themselves to the sunshine, and to each other.

Everywhere, bodies maneuvered into suggestive positions pretending to comfortably soak up sun rays. Wondering if the local obscenity statute was applicable here, I judiciously surveyed the territory. I couldn't wait to join in.

Noting a satisfactory location with a pleasing view, I moved to stake my claim.

Whizzz! A get-away frisbee raced towards me, threatening to splice my abdominal cavity in half.

Plop! An unattended hackeysack plunged upon me from above.

Picking up speed, I marked my domain on the ground by rolling out a towel. Now safe from the dangers of airborne objects, I took off my t-shirt and settled to the task of scoping.

Without warning, the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end in protest. But I ignored them, refusing to concede it was too cold. But goosebumps soon formed and began to travel down my spine.

Sitting up, I threw surreptitious glances at my fellow carefree, happy sunbathers to see how they fared. Careful observation revealed the secret for staying warm. Grabbing the array of oils and lotions at my feet, I applied them vigorously to the exposed surfaces of my body. The friction warmed me up rapidly.

I persisted in this fashion for only a short time. The sun played hide and seek behind the clouds, and my scoping proved fruitless. Standing, I used the towel to scrape at the thin layer of ice that had frosted the shaded patches of skin between my toes.

Undaunted, I headed home enchanted with the idea that the next day would be the first official day of spring.

I awoke Monday morning searching for the luminous ball of warmth that had greeted me the day before. I could not find it. Instead, frozen flakes floated down from the sky, covering the ground white.

I crawled to the bathroom and stared in the mirror. A disillusioned man with a cough and runny nose stared back. I reached for the Benilyn and Contac, hoping they might cure my spring fever.