May Day

    For some time I’ve been concerned with, or at least confused by, the celebration of May Day as the celebration of midsummer, coming , as it does, near, but not at, the middle of the spring season.  I tried using the 10 days lost by the Gregorian Calendar (adopted by the Catholic World in 1582, but not by the English until 1752, by the way), but that made the date May tenth, and that’s no help.  In today’s calendar the halfway mark between the Spring (Vernal) equinox and the Summer Solstice is Cinco de Mayo, which of course has nothing to do with the Mexican celebration, (of which more later).  Anyway, I found the answer…ready?

   The Celtic year began on Samhain (our Hallowe’en), it’s opposite on the calendar being Beltain, (our May Day) which is still celebrated in Wales as the premier holiday.  So, once again, ancient Pagan calendars reflect themselves in our “modern” cultural heritage.  For example that song in Camelot.  Now, why those old Celts chose those dates to begin their years, that’s another thing.  Mayans wouldn’t have done it.  Egyptians wouldn’t have done it.  Maybe they saw a different sky than the rest of the world.  Wouldn’t be the first time my ancestors saw something the rest of the world didn’t.

   Back to Cinco de Mayo, a biggie down here in the southwest.  (Why Texas is considered southwest is for another post.)  The mid-nineteenth century was especially trying for Mexico, what with a civil war, a war with Texas and another with the United States, and colonial infestations by the Spanish and French.  On 7/17/1861 Presidente Benito Juarez said all foreign debt payments would be suspended for a two year period.  Eventually everybody acquiesced, but the French.  Go figure.  The French intended to put Napoleon III in power.  The Mestizos, with the help of the Zapotec, kicked French ass in 1862.  On Cinco de Mayo.  Ironically, Mexican-Americans celebrate the holiday far more enthusiastically than Mexicans.  (Me, I usually do my irony on Sunday afternoons.)  All Americans tend to celebrate holidays more strenuously than other humans.  Hell, they even make them up.  For example, St Adrian’s Day is September eighth.  I’ll be telling you about St Adrian’s Day soon enough.  Peeling the onion.

Fresh bread

     When you go to buy bread in the grocery store, have you ever wondered which is the freshest, so you “squeeze” for freshness or softness?  Did you know that bread is delivered fresh to the stores five days a week?
 Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday.  And each day has a different color twist tie.  They are:
 Monday…Blue
 Tuesday…Green
 Thursday…Red
 Friday…White
 Saturday…Yellow
     The colors go alphabetically by color Blue – Green- Red – White – Yellow
 Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. Very easy to remember.
 Enjoy fresh bread when you buy bread with the right color twist tie on the
 day you are shopping.   

trying to live at Bag End

 Whenever I shop, whether it be for holiday or weekly groceries and sundries, the young minimum-wage customer service representative feels it his or her duty to stick my stuff in a bag.  “Paper or plastic” is the mantra of the young priests of consumerism. There is no option for carrying a bought item out of the store without carrying a bag. I bought a loaf of bread a 12-pack and a pack of cigarettes late last week at a local, out comes the damned bag.  The cigs go in my pocket, the beer is in a box and the bread is already in a bag.  What do I need another bloody bag for?  And yesterday I went to the big grocery store and bought $75 worth of stuff, enough for four grocery bags.  I moved on a tad, rearranged, and gave two of the bags back.  The attendent was either agape or aghast, I didn’t hang out to see which. I don’t see how that’s customer service, they’re just asking me to throw this thingie out for them.  The optimum solution, big in Whole Earth Stores and Southern California, is to bring one’s own reusable cloth bag.  That’s a great idea, and I have one or three of those at home, but there’s no way I can remember to take them along. I don’t usually go out on purpose to buy stuff.  I’ll drive by a supermarket and suddenly remember that I don’t have any peanut butter or whatever.  So, this is going nowhere.  My point is, think about what you’re buying y’all, you don’t necessarily need an extra bag.  And thank the young priest if s/he actually asks whether or not you need one.