I have a question, a simple question, yet one which I have a
feeling is rooting around in a lot of people
’s minds these days: could we have a holiday some time that
actually is a holiday?
I have a question, a simple question, yet one which I have a feeling is rooting around in a lot of people’s minds these days: could we have a holiday some time that actually is a holiday?
Maybe it’s the modern connotation of the word. I mean, “holiday” used to imply taking time off, relaxing, vacationing, recharging the batteries – that sort of thing. Now every so-called holiday is a time for excessive planning, a great deal of work, heaps and piles of stress, and the carrying out of whatever rituals are mandated by the Official Holiday Big Book of Rules.
Take Thanksgiving. I lobbied hard for sushi this year, got nowhere. Gotta be turkey and stuffing and cranberry sauce, and on and on; “wouldn’t be Thanksgiving without it.” But jeez, we eat turkey all year ’round these days – so healthy and all – and still we’re trapped in this “gotta eat a ton even though that’s bad for you and then scrounge through the leftovers until mere mention of the word ‘turkey’ makes your skin crawl – here’s how to torture yourself for the next three weeks working off what you ate” syndrome that makes no sense. All in the name of tradition.
Memorial Day: gotta barbecue to welcome in the warm weather and drink beer even though in our climate we can barbecue almost any time we want. July Fourth: gotta have a party, overeat, overdrink, go watch fireworks. Labor Day: gotta go to the beach or play volleyball or whatever to commemorate the end of summer activities even though in the Bay Area Labor Day signals the real start of summer and the best beach weather will be the following six weeks. In July we freeze, in September we sweat.
Then of course there’s Christmas, the holiday that has kept the psychiatric profession solvent for the past century. Cards, food, shopping, wrapping, eating, filing bankruptcy – no event is nearly so loaded with patterns of required conduct in which up and down the block, all across the country countless people are doing pretty much the same things at the same time. I wouldn’t be surprised if “learning the rituals of Christmas” has become part of the citizenship test.
So OK, they’re all fine in their way, but with so many of these structured ceremonies in our year, how about just one official holiday that recognizes that we all work a lot, including the time and effort we put into the other holidays?
How about a Nothing Day? Of course, there must be a ritual – we wouldn’t know how to behave without instructions, so how about this? On Nothing Day everyone must sleep in until they damn well feel like getting up. Anyone found mowing a lawn or doing home repair will be deemed unpatriotic and sent to Guantanamo Bay without charges. No one may travel anywhere over five miles from their house. No large fancy meals may be prepared; everyone is expected to forage from their refrigerators – peanut butter for dinner is perfectly acceptable.
No one dresses up, no one gives presents, no one calls relatives, no one balances their checkbook, pays bills, or shops online. Kids don’t do homework, grown-ups don’t clean the house. No plans, promises or lists are made.
Government is prohibited from even pretending to accomplish anything. For one day, yawning, scratching, and staring vacantly into space are considered cardinal virtues. What we’re shooting for here is a completely forgettable yet guilt-free day for the whole country. The following morning water-cooler conversations will begin with “What’d ya do yesterday?” followed by “I can’t remember; nothing, I guess.”
I mean, do we really need 365 busy, hectic, regimented, calendared, appointmented, stress-filled days a year? What if we chopped that way down to 364? Write your Congressperson; they’ll understand exactly what we’re talking about.
Robert Mitchell is a Morgan Hill attorney.
