Labor Day Weekend

Is upon us. 

Labor Day is a holiday for working people.  It was granted to them by a grateful government as a token of appreciation for their hapless exploitability. 

We don't actually work (government job),  but we get Labor Day off too.  Right now our offices are nearly empty, what with most everybody wanting to enjoy a four-day weekend.  Today is one of those days when all sane federal workers take off, leaving us barking mad ones to run the asylum.  That flubby sound that is produced when a person smacks his lower lip with a finger can be heard all up and down the hallways.  And you should smell the trash can fires!

Celebrated summer is over.  It's time to shut up the summer house at the beach and finally get around to burying its actual owners.   Sure, the smell of barbecued meat will linger, at least until Harney township finishes cremating all the plague victims.  And the boys of summer in their ruin will still be where they always are, hanging around outside the Littlestown Volunteer Fire Company, playing with their lighters.

But soon the leaves will turn, and the rains of autumn will turn the ashes in your grill into a paste which if you smear it on your face will leave you looking a lot like Marlon Brando when he pops out of the river in Apocalypse Now.  And the cold winds will blow, lo all the long night, all the long long desultory night, as we eat horseshoes in the dark. 

Summer's over, pal

Comments

[Daniel]

good riddance to a summer that never really was, get the tourists out of here, the fakers, the yippies, the summer-ers, bring back the ice, the wind, the bitter, the ground sun and the boots, it's all about layers...

[Unremitting Mike]

This Ain't No Summer of Love. Long live BOC!