This little holiday doesn’t have quite as much going for it, unlike the flashier Thanksgiving and Christmas spectaculars, filled as they are with rituals like massive feasts and drunken relatives bickering over stupid things. Basically, May Day involves flowers and people prancing around a stripper pole. That’s about it. So, let’s jazz things up with some new traditions, shall we?
Prepare Your Dwelling
1. Throw away the left-over Easter Eggs that have been dripping radiation in the back of the fridge for too long now. Those things were really cute at one time but, just like children, they turn bad before you know it. And it doesn’t matter that these were Little Jimmy’s first Easter Eggs and parting will be such sweet sorrow. Jimmy has already forgotten about them and moved on. He is now more invested in obtaining security clearance to those damn locked cabinets in the kitchen which tempt him with their forbidden treasures.
2. Finally put the Christmas tree box back up in the attic. Granted, you may have been using it as a handy folding table for the laundry, but that job activity is not part of the tree’s union contract, and he’s about to file a grievance. The last thing you need right now is a labor dispute when you are trying to make flowery headdresses for your 27 nieces, a gaggle of girls that are living proof that your brother clearly needs to find something else to do with his penis.
3. Force yourself to have the dreaded talk with the relative who was been “staying over for a few days” for at least a month. Explain to this person, the one you essentially stopped loving on Day 6 of the visit and simply couldn’t stand by Day 9, that May Day is the International Day of Moving on Down the Highway. (“Doesn’t that sound like fun? I’ll help you pack!”)
If the relative proves even more slothful than expected and does not immediately leave on a jet plane, tell the rest of the May Day story, which involves May 2, otherwise known as May Dead. This is the International Day where people who actually pay the bills in a dwelling are allowed to hunt down those who don’t, and nobody asks questions about bodies that might be discovered in alleys on May 3rd.
4. Beautify the world by running down to Lowe’s and buying a bunch of those sad little dollar plants left on the orphan rack after gardeners who really know what they are doing have picked through everything. Take them home and shove them in something, maybe the cute planter on the patio that looks just like a giant coffee cup, that thing you had to have back in 1983 and then promptly forgot about. If really invested, you might actually mow the lawn, but everyone will understand if you’d rather watch Ellen.
On the Big Day, Plan Exciting Activities That Will Entertain All Maturity Levels
5. Make sure that your maypole is the most obnoxious and borderline obscene-looking thing that you can find. After all, back in the day before the Christians came along and redesigned history with their stone tablets and burning bushes, May Day had something to do with fertility. (Ask your assembly-line brother, he’ll know about that.)
The little kids won’t get it, unless they’ve been watching HBO after you go to bed. But there will certainly be that unruly pack of twenty-something males that always stands off to one side, drinking beer, normally too cool to be at a party with flowers but forced to make an appearance or they risk disinheritance by Great Aunt Cleo. Ogling the giant tribute to their own anatomy will keep them occupied for hours.
6. Spike the lemonade. Just do it and don’t look back.
7. When all the little girls gather around the maypole, daintily clutching the long ribbons and trying to avoid the birds that keep pecking at their flower-laden heads, walk up and whisper to them a little secret. If they run really, really fast, fast like Momma just found out what actually happened to the fancy crystal vase in the formal dining room, they will actually be able to fly. Like an airplane. And then they can wear cute skirts and serve peanuts. So run with the wind!
Now, just stand back and watch the Himalaya-on-acid developments, with projectile children sailing through the air and your neighbors holding up ranking cards based on style, execution and landing distance. If any of the little Amelia Earharts call you out as the inspiration for the Lucy in the Sky Without Diamonds business, simply point at the empty candy wrappers littering the patio and shrug your shoulders. Sugar is the devil’s work, yes?
8. If you decide that you need to burn something, another ancient tradition that was kind of down-lowed by the Puritans (unless it involved witches), go right ahead. There’s something very cleansing about destruction and rebirth, especially if you’ve had enough of the lemonade. It is generally advised that one should burn things and not people, but a good host will always let the guests decide. Take a vote and see what happens. As a safer alternative, perhaps everyone should just hold their lighters to the sky while someone plays “Freedbird” on their iPad.
When It’s Time for People to Go Home, They Need to Git. Two options:
9. Walk out onto the patio, completely naked. Most of your relatives will realize that they really shouldn’t be seeing this and begin gathering their things, unless those relatives happen to be from East Texas, parts of Arkansas, or also watch HBO after midnight. To motivate your friends that don’t qualify for the incest category, hold up a cattle prod and wave it menacingly. This should nicely resolve things in an expedient manner, with car doors soon slamming. (Unless the non-relatives are from West Texas, parts of Louisiana, or raise livestock.)
10. If some people still insist on hanging around despite your personal free-birding, you may have to resort to tranquilizer darts. This may sound a bit harsh, but there’s only so much one can take when obnoxious fools do not understand that their entertainment value has faded. Of course, some folks may be so inebriated at this point that a projectile sedative might actually perk them up a bit, leading to increased mayhem and personal regret. (All exit plans have a downside.) This could turn out to be a very long night, especially if someone finds a dusty brochure on what really happened with all that May Day fertility stuff back in the day once the moon came out and the cows were asleep.
Just make another batch of spiked lemonade, find a comfortable chair, make sure your insurance premiums have been paid, enjoy the show, and wait for somebody to write a blog post about what happened…
Previously published, tiny changes made for this lazy bit of recycling.
Categories: Humor
Bonnywood Manor 
I celebrated early – had 1st BBQ of the season. Sunday weather returns to normal temperature, and it will rain. Extra water for ducks, geese, and other foul creatures ( our Conservative Premier – Doug Ford calling an election). Those old Easter eggs have such pretty colours, especially after you inhale some of their fumes. You will see some great May Pole dances, even if no one is there.
Since you are on Twitter, you may want to know about my voyage into the Fediverse to find the mythical Mastodon. Have posted about my adventures. Some of my illustrations are pulpishly whimsical. 🙂
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Dearest El,
I warped over to your post and left a rambling message concerning your concerns. Please excuse said rambling, as it’s grown late in the eve/morn and I really should have been in bed last Tuesday.
Sincerely,
Bri
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I live in multiple time zones – all governed by my snore cycle. 😀 I don’t know why I got up again at this hour. Because I took my medicine, now I need medicine for the medicine induced upset stomach.
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Thank you! I finally get why mayday is the international distress signal…
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It’s that dang pole. Once should never dance around a pole with complete abandon, as nothing good can come of that…
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All that hoop-la and those giddy go-rounds, and all in honour of my late Dads birthday? Brian you shouldn’t have!!!
Now to redress your, ahem, point 9. Careful with that casually waved cattle prod when stepping out in all your unraimented pasty glory, Brian. Testefry.
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Of COURSE this was just for dear old dad. How could it be otherwise?
As for Point 9, trust, after a few childhood incidents on Granny’s farm, I have great respect for a cattle prod, handling such with careful care and whatnot. Fryteste…
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I have very happily never had to do an official mayday call (m’aider – I have to insert its French origins, me being a Froggy and all), but May Day might need one. On second thought, maybe it should just fade away instead … 😉
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Thank you for bringing the French flair, always welcome. Tidbit: Our French teacher in high school, Madame Beckwith (who we quickly nicknamed Madame Beckavec, of course) , taught us to express it as “m’aidez”, in the formal manner, as she was always about societal respect, even if your tail is on fire… 😉
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Mayday is a sort of transliteration of “venez m’aider” or “come help me,” so it should have the “er” ending. 🙂
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Oh, I wasn’t questioning the grammar, far from it. (My French grammar knowledge has been lost almost at long as my virginity.) I was just slipping in a silly memory of our quirky teacher who spoke French with a Southern American twang (dooming most of us to incommunicado status, should we ever visit Paris) but insisted that we converse in Proper Formal French whenever possible…
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My excuse is that I’m French, so when it comes to The First Language, I have no sense of humour. 😉
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I’m completely down with the new May Dead holiday and burning things. My husband has an entire basement full of would be firewood. I can’t wait!
👍
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Just make sure your insurance is up to date and you’ll be fine. Take pictures!
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A bonfire for the ages. Great blog fodder…
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Instead of burning the May Pole, can I set fire to the broken down trailer that’s been in my neighbour’s driveway since last August. May Day is Moving Day!
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I don’t see any reason why not. People are free to make poor choices. We are free to react in a manner we see fit… 😉
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It’s still damn chilly outside today. Any young maidens will be sporting high beams. Then there will probably be a whole lot of poles in attendance and possibly some private dances.
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And thusly, once again, an initially innocent family function becomes mired in changing topography, rhythmic sultriness, and far more hormonal combustion than one should expect from such things…
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😂
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Reblogged this on Random and Sundry Things and commented:
This, people, is a great blog! I encourage you to read it and weep/laugh!
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Thank you so much for sharing this! (Yes, I know I already gushed on your post, but it didn’t feel right just giving this comment a simple like and moving on with my life…)
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Splendid advice as always – especially the tips for getting rid of guests who stayed too long at the party.
I think the getting naked thing should work for me.
Happy May Day, Brian!
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Isn’t it interesting how, in our younger years, we fervently hoped that our naked selves would prove pleasing and enticing, but now we can use the same condition as a weapon? (And it’s just as satisfying, but in a different way…)
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It’s cold here so I’ll spike the hot chocolate.
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Sounds fine to me. We all do what we need to do, and we stay out of other people’s business. If only more folks followed that little life trail…
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You always have such good advice, and how your mind works is always a fascinating subject for me, so I always enjoy your elucidated text, but something about the short, sharp statement of number 6 just moved me – or maybe it was whatever it was spiked with?
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And you always have such great responses for my posts, so I always enjoy getting that little email notification that you’ve left some wise words on one of my stories. I hadn’t really thought about it before, but Number 6 does have a rather nice pithiness about it. Those ten words could be good advice about life in general. Or a warning sign… 😉
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Oops, didn’t realize I was supposed to wait until May to spike the lemonade. Oh well, makes checking off the rest of the items on the list much easier. Except the Maypole. Don’t ask.
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To be fair, lemonade-spiking is a subjective and personal decision , so everyone should feel comfortable to pursue such activity when it best fits their own psychological needs. You do you.
But you KNEW I would have to ask, especially since you advised that I shouldn’t, thus intriguing me even more: Please share the deets on the Maypole Situation… 😉
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