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Upon taking a closer look at the common Labor Day festivities of the average Joe, I noticed that typically one or more of the following key activities can be found:

• Barbecuing (backyard or beach)
• Drinking beer
• Lounging (usually accompanied by above)
• Driving extremely long distances

If you examine this list very closely, there is not one item that infers of any actual labor taking place.  Ok, so most of us would agree that we’d rather spend the hottest, most unbearably balmy day alive in the office than go on a family road trip during Labor Day weekend, but I consider that to be such a unique experience that it can’t really be described as normal labor.

Another thing to consider is the span of workers that the Labor Day effect covers.  Just about everyone and their brother gets the day off (except for fast food workers – somebody’s gotta feed us!), yet do the bulk of these people actually perform enough labor to constitute an entire holiday???  Remember, this includes politicians, lawyers, Hollywood celebrities and yes, even the President of the United States!  Apparently the month just wasn’t enough time off for him…

Ok, I’ll bite.  After some careful persuasion from that one group that always seems to find lawsuit-inducing tendencies in anything I write, I thought it might be a good idea to at least try to give a little fact about Labor Day, so here it is:

Labor Day is a special holiday set aside to honor workers and the contributions that they make to their jobs and to society.

–Very Official-Sounding Labor Day Website by Someone Named Maggie

That having been said, I’d like to take this concept and build on it in an attempt to create the greatest spectacle that the blue-collar community has ever gazed upon through the break room window!  (What can I say?  When I dream, I dream BIG!!!)  Here’s what I’m picturing:

Labor Week (Give or Take)

It goes a little something like this: everyone in the working class, that is anyone who actually has to do a little manual work now and then, gets the entire week off to do whatever they please, completely paid.  Sure, they could go on vacation if they wanted to, but the real beauty in my plan lies back home!  Think about it – society couldn’t function properly if everyone decided to just stop working one day; any union associated with UPS or American Airlines has proven that, so we’ll obviously be needing somebody to fill-in for all of these empty positions.  I think this would be an excellent opportunity for all of our friends in middle and upper-management to show just how much they appreciate our efforts, by getting off their asses and doing something for a change!

It would be good for them to see what life is like from the other side of the desk, plus it would give the rest of us a chance to have a little fun with them for a change!  If you had the choice between going to a resort for a week, or spending some quality time watching your supervisors clean toilets, cook hamburgers, and stock shelves in the local grocery store, which would it be?  I’m pretty sure Mickey Mouse can wait on this one…

Of course, the week would end with a giant barbecue at the beach where we could all sit around, drink beer and tell stories about how awesome it was watching Mr. <Fill-In Your Bosses Name Here> try to figure out how to work the Shop Vac, or better yet, a broom!  Everyone would end up getting so drunk that we’d all call in sick the following Monday, even though it wouldn’t matter because the company would’ve gone under by then anyways!  Appreciation is the key word about this holiday, and I hope my boss remembers my deepappreciation for his understanding and kind-hearted consideration after he reads this column…

Anyone interested in starting a union for humor columnists???

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I can’t seem to find a suitable mate my age and my preference.  Is it because I’m too curvaceous and scare them with my femininity?  Is it because I’m too intelligent and spear them with my rapier wit?

Chasing them only seems to antagonize them.  I’ve had several offers from the elders of my tribe and a few from the fringes, but I’m not interested in these.  I’ve stood by being myself for a long time.

Would ending the loneliness be worth the label of hypocrite?  Could I act stupid?  Could I donate my curves to those afflicted with the condition I like to think of as “looking like a walking skeleton with skin stretched over it”?

Help me, please.

The Warrior Maid

Savannah Says:

I wonder what it is about society today that causes everyone to view things as “either/or.”  “Either I can be intelligent, or I can be married.”  “Either I can save up my money for a comfortable retirement as a single person, or I can spend everything I have on plastic surgery and attract a wealthy, elderly widower right now.”  “Either the tequila bottle is half empty, or it is half full.”

[Memo to Elizabeth: Make sure to order more tequila for this weekend’s Frijole Festival and Margarita Mix-Off.]

My point is, life is not an “either/or” proposition.  Sometimes, you must take a “Burger King” view of life and insist on having it your way.  And the best way to accomplish this is through trickery.

My dear, dear Maid, you have all the necessary trappings to attract any number of middle-aged, polo-playing ex-frat boys with houses in Val d’Isere and Rio, and a yacht moored off Aruba.  Your problem lies in seeing your strength (intelligence) as your weakness.

I fully understand what an impairment it is to be intelligent.  Not to mention beautiful, vivacious and amply-endowed.  The low self-esteem of most men makes it impossible for them to accept the feminist ideal of the attractive and intelligent woman.  Thus, the intelligent woman wins her man by refashioning her smartness into stupidity.

It takes a very smart woman to pull off convincing dumbness.  If native talent alone were enough, Mamie Van Doren’s career would have gone farther. (Here again, Melanie Griffith is the exception.)  You need to cultivate an adorable dumbness, Maid.  This, coupled with your curvaceousness, makes you a highly desirable marital package to any discerning gentleman.

First, learn to think before you speak.  Take long pauses before responding to anything, and maintain a quizzical expression.  Profess not to know, or not to understand, nearly anything your prospective mate discusses.  Ask him to explain things to you.  Watch his chest swell with pride as he shares his vast, if boring, knowledge of the world.

Next, when you do speak, make bubble-headed comments.  If you find an intelligent statement slipping from your lips, negate it immediately with a ridiculous quip.  (Your rapier wit will stand you in good stead, here.)  For example, should you slip up and say, “I see tensions in the Middle East are escalating,” adopt a puzzled expression and follow it with, “Why don’t they just all go shopping?” or “Why don’t they just get rid of all the escalators and use elevators instead?”

Third, adopt the subtle physical cues that denote airheadedness.  Cultivate a thin, reedy voice. Twirl the ends of your hair.  Pout.  Cock your head to one side at all times.

The absolute Monarch of Moronic was Marilyn Monroe.  I suggest you immediately watch all of her films to see how she cleverly feigns dumbness in order to get the guy.  “How to Marry a Millionaire” should be at the top of your viewing list.  Imitate Marilyn in all respects: voice, movement, and expressions.

As for your concerns about hypocrisy, Maid, let me just say there’s nothing hypocritical about a smart woman playing dumb.  You’re only showcasing your intelligence by doing so, and if it results in achieving the desired outcome, well, you’ve made the smartest move of all.

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