Memorial Day Weekend is the official beginning of the Summer season in the US, where it’s traditional to eat, drink and be merry, get outdoors, get sunburned, and enjoy various other excesses.
For those of us in the Sun Belt, it’s also officially the weekend that the snowbirds finish their northerly migration and we get our streets, supermarkets and beaches back for about four months. Anyone who spends June through September in South Florida has either to be a native, underprivileged retiree or persona non grata above the northern border of South Carolina. No one else is dumb enough to put up with our weather. (And yes, I do fall into one of those categories. Y’all will just have to figure out which one.)
And of course, for a notable number, it’s one of the hot summer excuses for getting squashed, fried, pickled, or embalmed (pick one or add your own). Memorial Day was always one of my favorites, and if you’re in recovery you may by now have remembered some of the shenanigans with which we came close to getting memorialized ourselves.
Can you say “Trigger?” Continue reading