Blasphemy or Revelation?
I confess: Maybe I've spent too much time with a shovel in my hands, standing ankle-deep in slush, bent over a thick crust of wet, sleety, icy sludge, while more of it pours down on me.
But today, that infamous holiday created by Hallmark? Now before you assume that I forgot to honor the Saint, I did not forget. Card and candy. No flowers. As a bonus, she gifted me with a card and a pint of Haagen-Dazs (the Saint did lose a few points for purchasing "light" ice cream, which is roughly equivalent to "light" cigarettes, yet not nearly as satisfying, but let us not tell her that I'm complaining). Thankfully, the Saint did not give me flowers either.
I mean, however, that this a holiday for the greeting card industry. The last really important thing that happened on Valentine's Day? Al Capone showed Bugs Moran who was boss.
Speaking of the Boss: Here's my point.
Instead of this commercial mid-winter holiday, an ode to the greeting card industry and a paean to Milton Hershey, why don't we skip it? Cross it right off the calendar. Valentine was a minor saint anyway; he doesn't compare to the Saint.
Let's just move everything to late summer. September 23, to be exact. Wouldn't Bruce's Birthday be a much worthier holiday?
What's better than late-summer rock and roll? (I know it's actually early fall, but work with me.) We could have nice, old-fashioned house parties, with beer and boom boxes (and maybe a little bourbon). We could gift each other with bootlegs of great concerts, various books by Bruce-friendly authors like Dave Marsh, and maybe, if we're lucky, catch Bruce and the E-Streeters on tour.
You know that I already celebrate September 23 as a National Holiday. Could it be much of a stretch to take this national? Have I told you how much I'm able to accomplish when I put my mind to things?
Right.
This could be fun. We might actually read meaningful lyrics on our holiday cards, but instead of sending the profits to Hallmark, Bruce could get royalties. I trust him with my money more than I trust large, multi-national corporations headquartered in Kansas City, don't you? (Yes, Kansas City is a great town; the barbecue is otherworldly and the Saint's mother is from there, but I digress.)
Exchanging an exquisite bootleg of "Jungleland" sounds a hell of a lot better than giving roses and chocolate, doesn't it? Plus it lasts longer, it's more enviro-friendly, and it might lead to dancing, so it's healthier, too.
I think I'm onto something. Then again, it could be the snow. Either way, September 23 falls on a Sunday this year, and I'm celebrating at my house. Feel free to join me.
Adam
But today, that infamous holiday created by Hallmark? Now before you assume that I forgot to honor the Saint, I did not forget. Card and candy. No flowers. As a bonus, she gifted me with a card and a pint of Haagen-Dazs (the Saint did lose a few points for purchasing "light" ice cream, which is roughly equivalent to "light" cigarettes, yet not nearly as satisfying, but let us not tell her that I'm complaining). Thankfully, the Saint did not give me flowers either.
I mean, however, that this a holiday for the greeting card industry. The last really important thing that happened on Valentine's Day? Al Capone showed Bugs Moran who was boss.
Speaking of the Boss: Here's my point.
Instead of this commercial mid-winter holiday, an ode to the greeting card industry and a paean to Milton Hershey, why don't we skip it? Cross it right off the calendar. Valentine was a minor saint anyway; he doesn't compare to the Saint.
Let's just move everything to late summer. September 23, to be exact. Wouldn't Bruce's Birthday be a much worthier holiday?
What's better than late-summer rock and roll? (I know it's actually early fall, but work with me.) We could have nice, old-fashioned house parties, with beer and boom boxes (and maybe a little bourbon). We could gift each other with bootlegs of great concerts, various books by Bruce-friendly authors like Dave Marsh, and maybe, if we're lucky, catch Bruce and the E-Streeters on tour.
You know that I already celebrate September 23 as a National Holiday. Could it be much of a stretch to take this national? Have I told you how much I'm able to accomplish when I put my mind to things?
Right.
This could be fun. We might actually read meaningful lyrics on our holiday cards, but instead of sending the profits to Hallmark, Bruce could get royalties. I trust him with my money more than I trust large, multi-national corporations headquartered in Kansas City, don't you? (Yes, Kansas City is a great town; the barbecue is otherworldly and the Saint's mother is from there, but I digress.)
Exchanging an exquisite bootleg of "Jungleland" sounds a hell of a lot better than giving roses and chocolate, doesn't it? Plus it lasts longer, it's more enviro-friendly, and it might lead to dancing, so it's healthier, too.
I think I'm onto something. Then again, it could be the snow. Either way, September 23 falls on a Sunday this year, and I'm celebrating at my house. Feel free to join me.
Adam
Labels: Bruce Springsteen, Holidays, The Saint
posted by Adam Hurtubise at 7:50 PM
2 Comments:
Hey, you've got me on board, although living on my own makes it a whole lot easier to assign every day as a Bruce national holiday.
I think that makes it an international holiday!
Always glad to hear from my Norwegian friends.
Post a Comment
<< Home