Memorial Day Weekend

Ahh, Memorial Day Weekend.

The kickoff to the Long Weekend Happiness Triumvirate.

Memorial Day, July 4th, Labor Day. These are High Holy Days to the working class. And rightfully so.

Such a sense of relief. One extra day off is as good as a terminal cancer patient being given one more month to live. Even better.

Since 2016 I have worked low level, oddball jobs that have me coming and going to work at strange times. So I am on the road heading to work when everyone is making their escape - there is gobs of traffic heading in all directions - north, south, east, west. (I am a city boy - I have no fucking clue what north, south, east and west even means. When somebody tells me to head east, I kick them in the balls and find somebody who will point). 

In NH it is ususally north - seems to be some kind of rule or something. Everybody's heading north, baby. Gotta go north. Maybe because there are less people up north. Less people = more peace.

On long weekends, everybody's creating nirvana.

Happy traffic. Cars loaded up inside and out, shit on the roof, kayaks, bikes on the back. RV's, and cars towing campers.

I am not a camper. For me to camp I would require a $700,000 camper, luxury accomodations at the campsite, fine dining with wait service, and a hermetically sealed campsite that keeps bugs out.

But it occurred to me yesterday, as I watched this exodus of happy camping people, that camping makes sense. When you camp, you really shake things up. Getting out of your cushy environment, going someplace completely different, different scenery, campfires, wildlife, sleeping bags, different routines - you are shocking your senses with freshness, newness, variety - you feel alive alive alive.

That's kind of the point of getting away.

I am happy for the people. Worker bees getting a dose of happiness, relaxation and release. Exhaling, for a change.

Three whole days.

Dig it, baby.