Happy Memorial Day?

Happy Memorial Day! 

    The following is a serious telling of the origins of Memorial Day, which is anything but happy.  It's a repost from Penwasser Place, but I thought it would be better here.  I promise there will be no political tomfoolery.

"Therefore, I've introduced a bill in Congress which would eliminate the Electoral College.  Higher education will no longer be the sole purview of the wealthy.  Part of my bill will be the establishment of the Electoral Community College, where every American, and those who snuck in, will be given a free education.  And gender reassignment."

    Okay, maybe a little tomfoolery.

********

Nothing happy about this

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

     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), Florida tropical storms, and California wildfires is the true purpose behind Memorial Day.

    Originally called Decoration Day, 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?).  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 Cemetery was built on the grounds of the Robert E. Lee estate.  Kind of an FU, wouldn't you say?

NOTE:  For my non-American friends (and products of a Learing Center), 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, yo).  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 one, 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 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), 

"Eff."

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.

    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.

"Middle-aged?  Planning on living to 136, are ya?"

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

"Fabulous.  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.  

Or playing catch with the lawn darts Uncle Chris brought.

    Those are all happy memories.  Except for Uncle Chris, probably.

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

    It is then when I’ll remember.

    Hopefully, I’ll be able to cook a hot dog better than my dad.

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

    Happy Memorial Day!