Whew! I'm Beat!

I am a dedicated writer. I even get up early on days when I could sleep in to come beg publishers to discover me and pay me kajillions of dollars to turn my blog into a book, movie, TV series, t-shirt, or refrigerator magnet. There are those out there who would say, "But Jeff, isn't it possible that you are only up early because you forgot to turn off the alarm clock that is set to go off 5 days a week?" Oh Ye of little faith...and loads of insight. Yup, six o'clock on the dot and I hear the wonderful light rock selections beginning to ramp up. A few beeps later and the alarms are all turned off so Sylvia can remain sleeping, but I am completely awake. Good for her, and good for you (if you enjoy reading this) because I have sort of taken the position that I am not going to just get up and turn on the TV to wait for everyone else in the world to get up. Thus this post.

I also need to give some credit to my sister who made a special request that I "labor over a blog entry before the end of Labor Day." She is, in fact, a big reason I started writing this in the first place. You can alternately thank or blame her as the case may be. (she is the follower whose name rhymes with snoozin)

It may seem like my idea stream has slowed to a trickle over the summer, but the fact is that my writing time has been impeded by getting things done around the house. "Laboring", as it were. It used to be that I could get up around 7 or so and start to write for about ninety minutes before anyone even knew I was up. Fudge, the wonder dog, is as reliable an alarm clock as anything Timex has ever produced. You remember the slogan, "There is no ticking, he just keeps on licking." I would get up, wipe off my face, let him out (which is a euphemism for something), and feed him...right before I sat down to write. I would be a paragraph away from done before there were any other sounds in the house.

Over the summer we had the goal of getting our van into the garage and, since Sylvia didn't like my idea of just backing way back and ramming it in, we needed to sort some things out. In order to do that Sylvia started waking early to get started for the day. When she came out she would always say, "It's OK, keep writing." But guys, it was that tone. You know the one. The same as a "nothing" that you know darn well means "something." So I put down the laptop and started in helping. It made for some really long times between posts...it also made for a big empty spot in the garage that fits the van nicely. Or rather it did until we allowed Jake to buy a set of drums with his own money...but that is another post.

So now we come to Labor Day. I know to capitalize it because I am a teacher and I know that some people call it a holiday. But I submit that it is not a real holiday as the evidence clearly shows.

First the name. Labor Day. Websters defines labor as "doing stuff." Well I'm pretty sure that's what it would say if I felt like getting up and looking. I'm nothing if not thorough. The name can be interpreted as meaning that we need to "do stuff" because this is the day for labor. But we all know that this is not the meaning. Otherwise only presidents would be allowed to buy washers and dryers with no interest for three years on Presidents Day. No, Labor Day is to take a day off from doing your labor. But wait! Isn't this the opposite of what is happening these days? It starts early on. Paper Men (I am convinced that there are no more paperboys) need to work harder than almost any other day other than the Friday after Thanksgiving because of all the ads. Then, because of all of those ads, the stores need to have almost all of their employees come in to handle all of the extra customers who find it impossible to live without the newest big ticket item at no interest for three years...even if you aren't a president. It seems to me the largest group of people who get the day off are those who work for the government (and lets be honest, they fail at even my definition of labor).

So the name doesn't lend itself to being an actual holiday. Thanksgiving - give thanks. Christmas - Christ Mass. Independence Day - the day of independence. Arbor day - the day you are supposed to walk under one of those flower draped white arches they have at weddings. I mean those make sense! Labor Day, seriously?

Now I don't want to complain too much because, well, I get the day off too. But let me tell you when someone deals with a room full of five year olds (and nearly five year olds) where one of them comes up to you and says, "Amo pego" (I love to hit...in Spanish) there is labor involved. I shall not be purchasing any big ticket items this labor day (even though I am the president of the Bonnie Hunt Fan Club...it's an honorary title I bestowed upon myself) and I will feel mildly guilty if we should happen to need to go to the store for something. I will not, however, admit that it is a real holiday.

The final and most compelling evidence that this is not a real, honest to goodness, holiday rests in the most reliable purveyor of holiday validation. I put it to you, ladies and gentlemen of the...world...(movie line....any takers?) that Labor Day is simply not a holiday because Google.com has not turned its logo into anything involving labor! Case Closed!

Have a nice Labor Day! Whether you "labor" or not is completely up to you...unless you are a president.