Enjoy the Holiday

Just like Memorial Day marks the beginning of summer, Labor Day always marks the end of summer. Besides the Fourth of July, these two holidays probably spawn more picnics and outdoor fun for families than any other day of the year. I'm glad we have a good excuse to go outside and have some fun.

When I was first married, Labor Day was a time for the Miller clan to gather and say goodbye to the lazy, hazy days of summer, but it was also a day to celebrate Mom Miller. Her birthday was September 5th, so this gathering was a good time to bring gifts, have cake, and wish her well for another year. It was also a good day for the kids to spend playing and having a good time before school started. It always started after Labor Day up north, not in August as it does here.

How will you celebrate the day? I will have some brisket and corn on the cob and remember all those wonderful Labor Days of the past.

Several days before the Labor Day weekend, I start thinking about the song, "40-Hour Week" by Alabama, and bits of the lyrics come to mind. My roots run deep in blue collar America, so this song speaks to me and my family. I hope it says something to you, too.

If you're interested here is a link to some neat Labor Day Quotes.

Happy Labor Day

Just a short note this morning to wish all my U.S. readers a happy holiday. For many people this is a special holiday to wrap up the summer and start looking ahead to fall. Families gather for picnics and cookouts, and when I was growing up, this holiday was almost as big as the Fourth of July.

And I fully intend to as soon as I finish this post. LOL

After I married, I was inducted into the Miller family tradition which was to picnic at a local park with the whole Miller clan. The primary celebration was for Mom Miller's birthday, which was September 5th, but it was also a challenge for the kids to cram all the last of the summer fun they could into one day. They played hard until we ran out of daylight, and slept through their baths. Moms and dads were tempted to just fall into bed fully clothed.

The holiday was started to honor the American workers, and I always think of the song, "40-Hour Week" by Alabama. My roots run deep in blue collar America, so this song speaks to me and my family. Enjoy!

What the Fourth of July Really Celebrates

Today's Wednesday's Guest is my friend, Slim Randles, with some thoughts on the Fourth of July and what the parades and picnics all mean. I think he is on to something here.

The annual Fourth of July picnic was a celebration of time and freedom. We’d all watched the parade, earlier, because that’s what you do on the Fourth, and we believe in it.

Our parade features Scout troops in uniform, the high school band, floats with pretty girls … well, okay, it’s actually Delbert’s convertible with signs on the doors … and little kids proudly leading their dogs down our main street. In other words, pretty much everyone.

Those of us who aren’t marching have been known to say things like, “Hon, isn’t that the O’Brien kid with that German shepherd? My, he’s grown.”

You know.

Hope Slim had some of these cupcakes at his picnic.

 And then we go to the picnic and gorge ourselves and play softball and horseshoes and soak up the sun and laugh a lot. It’s a time for asking mere acquaintances from grocery store sightings just how they’re doing, in hopes of becoming real friends. It’s time to catch up on friends who have been solid bricks in our wall of life forever. It’s also a time to rejoice and see new bundles of babies that have joined us since last year, and feel a bit sad at those who have left us, too.

It’s a time when two guys on opposite sides, politically, can just smile and talk sports and enjoy each other. There’s time enough to disagree on policies later on. No rush.

And we know, deep inside, that this is the real reason we celebrate our Independence Day. Because we can set aside our differences and have fun together. We can be free to have fun together because a long time ago some men in powdered wigs were smart enough to look ahead toward … well, toward this very picnic of ours, actually.

They wanted it to be fun, too.
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