The Holidays Have Gotten Worse
Or is this another symptom of cranky old age?
I drove to Walmart this morning, against my will. Leaving the house wasn’t wise but due to three electricians in the kitchen, I had to find food elsewhere.
I felt strong, so I sought a sausage, egg, and cheese biscuit before girding up my big girl pants and diving into the 4th of July madness.
Driving down the beautiful tree-lined street to Wally World, I was tailed by a weaving white pickup.
Since I work for the police, I briefly considered slowing down and getting his tag, then dialing the authorities.
Then I realized I wasn’t working and besides, I needed to eat something nutritious and fortifying before colliding with the throngs of humanity who are celebrating freedom.
I think most of them believe they are free. They sure act like it.
The Parking Lot on the 4th of July
For reasons I may never grasp, the 4th is the biggest holiday in these parts. Maybe it’s the South, the lakes, the wafting scent of freedom and Bud Light, or the arrival of truckloads of grandchildren.
Maybe it’s because these people worship freedom the way I bow down to the quiet god of Respite from Loud Idiots.
The big event is the over-the-lake fireworks show which shuts down the lake parking lot as hordes of elderly people and their offspring and their offspring’s offspring are shuttled into lawn chairs.
Food trucks supply the tykes with drippy ice cream.
Police patrol for yahoos.
We have boats cruising around the lake, chock full of freedom-loving, ice-cream-eating yahoos, enjoying the beauty of nature while revving their engines and playing amplified country music.
None of this is new, but as I get older I find it more intolerable and I wonder, have holidays gotten worse?
It Was a Picnic
My childhood Independence Day was its own universe: a neighborhood 4th of July picnic, where we threw dry ice into the creek to watch it bubble.
Maybe there was a pony ride, which I never went on because my parents were cheap and had already trained me to distract myself with Nature and my own company.
They threw a bike decorating contest, set up a volleyball net, and dotted the park with huge icy bins of soft drinks.
This was all great stuff as my house never had Cokes in the fridge.
I don’t once remember driving to the store to buy hot dogs, then encountering some obnoxious driver/parker/patron. I don’t recall the crush of liberated humanity.
I don’t remember encountering rude people, period.
Was I simply shielded from the horror of the holiday madness?
I have a few theories.
People
It’s a fact there are more people, and I think this is the ultimate problem. They come out to buy sh*t when holidays occur. Apparently, they can only get together with each other on a holiday.
This might be because people work terrible schedules all the time and no one can mesh their schedules for get-togethers.
The only time you can see Uncle Joe and Tia Maria is when the government gives you an official rest from your crappy job.
That’s Freedom for ya.
Cars
Everyone has a car these days. Families have multiple cars. People can’t communicate or compromise, so inevitably someone storms off in their own car.
They also have motorcycles, and like to ride them around in groups on holidays because that’s their hobby.
I love a motorcycle and have ridden one for years, but I don’t care for bikers. They can’t help but send an intimidating vibe out into the stratosphere. They are always male, unless they bring their girlfriends riding pillion and wearing impractical short cutoff shorty shorts.
I do like a gang of lesbian bikers. We need more of those, especially on the holidays and in parades. Dykes on bikes would help balance the depressing reality that the only people who can afford Harleys are white guys with decent-paying jobs.
Children and Families
Children are classified as people, and we keep them in school because otherwise, mayhem will rain down upon us like a plague of frogs.
On the holidays, kids come out and roam in groups known as families.
Families take up large chunks of space and move inefficiently due to their sheer bulk and desultory spatial coherence.
Families should stay in living rooms, and maybe venture out to the back porch. On Memorial Day, I’m not against them being contained in campgrounds and pavillions for parties and picnics.
They should not shop together.
They should not wander through public spaces en masse, especially pushing shopping carts at my local Walmart.
Old People
Like children and families, Olds are technically people. They don’t bother me, as I am one of them, but they are kinda slow and it’s depressing to realize my future is digging through my purse trying to find a card I barely know how to use at checkout.
The one thing I enjoy about old people is how they don’t go out in groups, and if they do it’s kind of adorable, and they are well-behaved.
They don’t go out much, they don’t drink and morph into dickwads.
Their outfits, while dull, are appropriate to the weather and to their wrinkled appearance.
You won’t usually find an Old flashing cleavage and sporting see-through white capris over a thong.
On the whole, old people add to the sheer numbers of people out there during holiday celebrations and for that reason they, too, should stay home.
Noise
We didn’t have people setting off ear-splitting fireworks in my neighborhood, which is a Nice Neighborhood but there’s always one, isn’t there?
In olden times, i.e. my childhood, you could buy mellow incendiary devices: sparklers, snakes, small rockets.
Buying actual fireworks was discouraged, and they were illegal in places.
People who set fireworks off did it on the 4th.
Now, the dipshits who use really loud, fire-hazard-style fireworks light ’em up days before, and the day after.
We Aren’t Pretty
We eat more than we used to, especially snack foods. We also litter more, because there is more styrofoam and snack packaging and to-go cups and bowls and boxes.
We are decidedly fatter and less attractive, and that includes the kids.
People wear tiny cutoffs and spaghetti-strapped halters (and worse) when they shouldn’t be leaving the house.
The vegans are undernourished. The normie children are being fattened up for a future of snarfing down Pizza Hut Meat Lovers dinners.
During the 4th, everyone wears less and eats more. It’s not a good look, America.
Final Anti-Holiday Thoughts
It sounds depressing but the answer to my holiday woes is simple and feasible.
I don’t like the public, their cars, their kids, or their existence.
The solution is hunkering down and hibernating in midsummer.
I shall stay home.
Holidays are a free-for-all. In the end, this is why they will continue to attract mass shooters.
On a less cynical note, I’m sure the kids love the 4th as much as I did.
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Jean Campbell is based in Hot Springs, Arkansas. She has been writing on Medium for years and has recently published her first novel, Down and Out on the Road South, with Wings ePress.
