One of the most poignant lines in all pop music I find in Weezer’s disposable ditty Island in the Sun.

The band caught a lot of criticism when the song came out. People said it sounded like Sugar Ray. That’s a fair criticism, musically. But I find the song more meaningful than anything on the soul-baring Pinkerton album.

Frontman Rivers Cuomo spent years battling crushing depression – the “put tinfoil on your windows and never leave your apartment for years” type. The hardcore type.

Wanting to be on an “island in the sun” isn’t just about a holiday week in the tropics. When he sings “We’ll never feel bad anymore,” it’s his deepest wish as well as one of life’s most impossible tasks.

How can you never feel bad any more? Truth is, you can’t.

I’m not actually here to critically re-evaluate mid-period Weezer. Earlier this week I wrote a short (for me) blog post about the first real day of spring – sunny, warm, flowers blooming, leaves finally on the trees.

Walking down a lovely sun-dappled street with tree limbs sagging with blossoms, it just felt good. I wanted to write about that. So, I did.

I caught some good-natured guff from friends about “what have you done with the real Putney!?” And, no, my site wasn’t hacked by Pollyanna.

Hopefully the people who read it were on metaphor alert because it feels like, at least for now, winter is over.

For me, 2014 was an extremely rough year. I won’t bore you with details, but I came out of it thinking differently about happiness.

Namely, that happiness isn’t a state, but something that you get for a while. You don’t really own it. It’s like it’s on loan, but it’s not even that, really.

I liken it to money.

Twelve-year-old David couldn’t imagine the amount of money I have in my bank account on payday. Middle-aged me can’t imagine how little of that is left right before the next payday rolls around.

I don’t “have” money. I just passes my way temporarily.

That’s happiness for most people. You get it … for a while. You get to use it while you’ve got it.

And, the only way you can enjoy it – really enjoy it – is to traverse the tough times. After Boston’s cold, frozen wasteland of a winter, that bursting, blooming street somehow feels more special, like it was earned.

Right now just feels like a moment for me – an ephemeral spring day.

I’ll take that.