This is that time of year when we collectively as beach-town dwellers go through a myriad of conflicting emotions. It’s almost as if our entire existence goes bi-polar for a little while until our bodies and minds have made the annual adjustment, each year acting as if it’s something completely new. And for what it’s worth, until recently I always thought that “bi-polar” was a large white bear who had a fondness for both men and women.
I’m talking about that time of year when October morphs into November. Though the two months are literally only separated by a single second, they sometimes seem worlds apart. Today I’m going to go through some of the holidays, climate changes, and rituals associated with this time of year in order to illustrate my point.
As a bartender in a seasonal beach resort town, I will admit that I look forward to October every year. I’ve told countless customers that if I didn’t live here already, that October is when I’d come. The clientele has taken a turn for the better during the month of October. Most of the proverbial ‘riff-raff’ have gone, the weather is still beautiful, and the town breathes a collective sigh of relief. We’ve survived the brunt of another season and can now unwind a bit while still making a living. Though we are all fully aware that the massive influx of summer tourists are a necessary evil and vital to our survival, part of us are secretly relieved to see them ago.
I’ve been saying for years that my favorite color is October. I know that sounds a little silly and cliche, but I genuinely mean it. There is no more colorful time than when all of the leaves are changing. It makes me happy and kind of softens the blow that summer has come to an end.
Now to the other side of the coin. As October rolls over to November, our overall outlook goes from peacefully blissful to depressed and macabre in a matter of less than 24-hours.
We close out October with Halloween – one of the many pointless holidays that may have at one time had meaning but now is just nothing more than a silly excuse. Truth be told, I lost interest in it when I was about 8. I’m now taking part in the whole trick-or-treating experience again for my children’s sake but the rituals continue to befuddle me. And to watch the astonishing number of adults who get so excited about it will never cease to shock me. To each their own I guess, and I won’t judge, but an overwhelming number of the adults who dress up seem to me like women who just want to be able to go out in public one night a year dressed in garb that should be reserved for the honeymoon suite, and for guys who secretly want to wear makeup and dress in drag. But hey, if that’s your thing, have at it.
Then, we wake up the next day to find that the time has changed and we’ve morphed into a parallel dimension while we slept. This is the most bizarre and ironic ritual that we as Americans for whatever reason still indulge in. Can anyone at all pose to me a reasonable argument as to why we still recognize daylight savings time? With the possible exceptions of those in Arizona, Hawaii, and Indiana who apparently were sharp enough to not bite on the sales pitch of; “but hey, one night a year you get an extra hour of sleep.” Maybe it’s just me, but six months of demoralizing sadness seems like a stiff price to pay for a single hour of sleep annually. I’m never really sure which way to turn my clock, so I’m glad they came up with that little poem to help us. You know the one, spring forward, fall……..into a deep-seeded six month depression during which you have practically no money, yet still have to endure the most costly and over-commercialized holidays. When everything you enjoy about life is made practically impossible by temperatures and weather patterns, causing you to subsequently put on a substantial amount of unwanted weight and spurring your already faltering self esteem to accelerate. What the hell, let’s go ahead and make it get dark an hour earlier. The concept is pointless and obsolete, yet no one but me seems bothered by it. I guess everyone is too busy worrying about Starbuck’s cups.
And now, one of the last enjoyable bastions of life in this area has been taken from us. That bizarre, annual, post-Halloween ritual that could only have been conceived in Delaware known as Punkin Chunkin. Apparently, after so many years, it is now too much of a liability. At least that’s what they’re telling us. Personally, I think the truth is that it was offensive to Jack O’ Lanterns. And we don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings now do we? As far as reasons to be in Delaware, I’ve comprised a list to put this in perspective;
- You are stationed at Dover Air Force base.
- You are a NASCAR fan and are attending one of the two annual race weekends. (Why?)
- A handful of the restaurants in Rehoboth.
- Tax free shopping.
and of course,
- Punkin Chunkin!
Now this is not just a ‘top 5’ list of reasons to be in Delaware. This is a COMPLETE list of reasons to be in Delaware! Congratulations to each of the other four on moving up a notch.
It’s never been a secret here that I am not a big proponent of most holidays. A large majority of them I find over-hyped, commercialized, bastardized, pointless, and without merit. Most of them, even the ones that once had legitimate meaning have just been excuses for the powers that be to make us continue to do the ‘puppet dance’. I’ll admit my hypocrisies though as in the next month or so, I’ll put us completely into hock and spend money we don’t even have on gifts for my kids for Christmas, and never, at any point during the process, understand why. Dance puppets, dance!
Conversely, there are a very few holidays that I think are appropriate and completely necessary and should be acknowledged with a vigor. The two main ones that come to mind are Mother’s Day and Veterans Day (which fell on the day that I’m writing this). We may not all be Irish, or Christian, or Goblins, or stupid people who need Valentine’s Day to express their love to someone, but there’s not a single person reading this, myself included who doesn’t have a reason to thank a veteran or a mom.
I for one have never served a day in uniform, and probably would not have the courage to do so. But my respect, gratitude, and undaunted admiration for those who have and do is without measure. I’m buried at the bottom of this site in the editorial section as I should be. There are talented and reputable writers, and then there’s me. And I’m fine with that, because tucking me under the umbrella of a disclaimer exonerates them from responsibility for my rants while providing me with a forum to spew them. But ultimately it’s those who have fought for all our rights that have made it possible for an idiot like me to enjoy the luxury of trying to entertain all of you each week. I for one am very thankful to all veterans for the scores of everyday privileges that we’ve come to take for granted.
Thanks for playing along. Until next week, Syd Nichols
Share your love, hatred, or indifference with me at sydnichols@yahoo.com
