When I was a kid—OK, this was about the time radio was invented...—one of my favorite rock groups—rock and roll had just been invented...—was the Coasters, and their big hit, penned by the immortal songwriter team of Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller, was an earworm called "Poison Ivy." It was a Number One song in the summer of 1959, and, as any real music aficionado would tell you, it was really more R&B than rock. But as a nine-year-old, I wasn't interested in splitting musical hairs. Nor did it dawn on me—thank God it didn't dawn on my parents—that the song was, according to lyricist Leiber, about sexually transmitted diseases. The only thing I was catching was the beat and what I thought were genuinely catchy lines. I've also never forgotten the words, and every spring, when I'm outside looking for signs of the Great Awakening, I comb the rock walls and trees for a look at the first shiny Poison Ivy leaves to emerge from above-ground stems that, at times, can reach 50-feet high in the trees. This foliage trio—"leaflets three, let it be" goes the ID line—gets the honors this year. "She'll get you in dutch," warn the Coasters. "You can look, but you'd better not touch..." The plant, or, well, you know.