Come Monday

Headin’ up to San Francisco
For the Labor Day weekend show,
I’ve got my hush-puppies on,
I guess I never was meant for
Glitter rock and roll.
And honey I didn’t know
That I’d be missin’ you so.

Those are the opening lines of Jimmy Buffets “Come Monday.” Not sure exactly why, but those lines were always somewhat haunting to me.

Perhaps it is Labor Day itself. The end of Summer. I know both Rob and me have detailed the wide range of emotions we went through as kids at the end of summer. I know this must be part of why this song and Labor Day, in general, is an anxious , haunting time for me. The drive back to New York City after spending two months in what we called heaven… Lake Hopatcong, NJ. The sounds of the chirping night insects replaced by the blaring car horns and police sirens. The aroma of a damp woods replaced by decaying garbage, car exhausts, and other unpleasant odors. Then, inevitably, there was back to school. A dreaded time for me. I hated school… I hated being a loner…not accepted by most of the kids. I hated being made fun of ( bullying in today’s vernacular). I hated it all, and tomorrow literally, after our depressing drive back to the City, was the first day of school. No time to detox, no time to prepare..tomorrow, the day after Labor Day…. was school.

It was a horrible feeling for me and one that I can literally still feel today. Today, being Labor Day brings it all back.

I never “headed up to San Fransisco for a weekend Labor Day show”, as I spent most of this day mourning the end of summer. Tomorrow morning Rob and I would not wake up to the sound of the blue jays and quickly get dressed, secure our baseball gloves and head out for a full day of “play”. Tomorrow morning I would be worried about who would be making fun of my “back to school” clothes, or anxious about my new teacher, or wondering if I would find a friend. Things changed on Labor Day…. the summer was over… winter was coming. I was apprehensive and, I will admit, afraid.

It’s interesting to me that I sit here writing this on Labor Day 2018. Clearly many, many years have passed…. and still, on this day, Labor Day, I feel many of the same emotions.

The reasons are somewhat different now, but the theme is the same. Ending of a season…. winter coming. I suppose my feelings come with age. Am I really in the “September of my Years”? ( listen to that song, please) I would think that fact is saying yes…. and I don’t like it. I don’t want the days of summer to pass.

The “little kid” in me is still very much there. Frightened and anxious about winter, hanging on to the warm days of summer. The fun, the laughs, being carefree. The seasons are changing, and I don’t like it one bit.

I am now playing Roseann and Johnny Cash’s wonderful, “September , when it comes.”
And I realize again, I don’t like Labor Day.

Don.

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