Blessed Memorial Day

     Even though Penwasser Place is viewed in most of the civilized world and New Jersey, the following will probably only make sense to Americans (like NASCAR).  But, hey, by all means hang around if you wish.

 

Happy Memorial Day!

     I wonder how many of us say that without realizing the last Monday in May is really not about the unofficial start of summer?

    NOTE:  Yes, yes, yes, I know.  June, July, and August are pretty cold in the Southern Hemisphere, which sounds like a crappy deal for our friends down under.  Until you stop to consider they also don’t have Trump.  Then, it’s kind of a wash.

    Lost among backyard barbecues, fireworks (for those looking to get a jump on Independence Day...and bug the shit out of their neighbors), trips to Jersey beaches (to watch the annual washing ashore of mob hits), and tropical storms (in Florida) is the true purpose behind Memorial Day.

    Originally called Decoration Day, the recognition of those who gave their lives in the recent Civil War was officially proclaimed on May 5th, 1868, by General John Logan of the Grand Army of the Republic (weren’t they all full of themselves?).  

"Plus, I had a killer mustache. 
Take that, Sam Elliot!"

    Planned for May 30th, it drew former foes together to plant flowers and otherwise spruce up graves of war dead from North and South alike at Arlington National Cemetery.

    Fun Fact:  Arlington National Cemetery sits on the site of property once owned by Robert E. Lee. 

 

Man, talk about an "FU!" to the general of the Army of Northern Virginia, huh? 

    To be sure, women in the South were also “decorating” gravesites of their dead from the “Great Cause.”  In fact, some sources state that those practices even predated the end of the war.  What’s more, some states in Dixie even had their own Decoration Days, mostly in May. 

    NOTE:  For my non-American friends (and products of the West Virgnia school system), the American Civil War (or “War of Northern Aggression”-sheesh, those people can really hold a grudge) took place between 1861 and 1865 between the “North” and the “South.”  I could bore you with the whys, whens, and whats about one of my country’s most horrific conflicts, but I won’t (no sense cracking a book).  Let’s just put it this way:  a lot of people died and the blue team won.  Oh, and it wasn’t technically a “civil” war.  Because, let’s face it, there’s nothing civil about getting your head blown off by a cannon ball.  

    Incidentally, if we have another intranational bloodbath, it will be an actual civil war, though.  So we have that going for us.

"Which is nice."

    Decoration Day remained an observance of Civil War dead up until after the First World War.  Following history’s most idiotic conflict (which didn’t end up being the “war to end all wars,” after all), 

"Tell me about it. 
We were stuck with a shitload of tee shirts."

it was decided that May 30th would be set aside to honor all American war dead.

    The name, however, stuck until it officially changed to Memorial Day in 1967.  No matter what it was called, though, Americans throughout the nation took time out to honor those who had fallen in service to their country.

    What seemed to many to be a civic duty began to fade after Congress passed the Holiday Act of 1971.  An effort to consolidate some federal holidays into three-day weekends, it shifted Memorial Day to the last Monday in May.  The inexorable transformation from solemn tribute to summertime bacchanal had begun.

    I try my best not to be a crank about the avalanche of car commercials, barbecue tips shows, or “ABBA to ZZ Top-The Memorial Countdown of the 500 Most Popular Hits of the 70s, 80s, 90s, and Whatever the Frik We Call the 21st Century!”  It’s hard not to get caught up in the hoopla of a country poised at the brink of gloriously warm weather (sorry, Aussies) and summer reruns.  Hey, I like to walk around with my shirt off and scare wildlife like any other middle-aged guy.

"Son of a...NOT AGAIN!!!!"

    Still, I remember when Memorial Day used to be about the Soldier, Sailor, Airman, Marine, Coast Guardsman, and whatever the  Space Force calls themselves.  

"We call ourselves fabulous!"

    Parades, wreath-layings, air shows, flag-raisings:  those were what I remember.

    But, if I think back really hard, I also remember my father incinerating hot dogs on the grill while listening to Best of the Ventures on his 8-Track player.  All while we played fetch with our dog-using my little brother’s bathing suit.  When we weren’t playing catch with the Lawn Darts.

    Those are all happy memories.

Even the time Uncle Don strayed into the field of play

    So, when I get up Monday morning, I’m going to proudly fly my flag.

    It is then when I’ll remember.

    Then, I’ll see if I can cook a hot dog better than my dad.

The bar is pretty low, after all.

    Now that I think of it, I guess the saying fits:

    Happy Memorial Day!

    And thank you.