August 32 Again

Yesterday's annual celebration of Mootday went off without a hitch, as usual. Breakfast was eaten at around breakfast time. Crossword puzzles were completed in short order and we all gathered at the diner to discuss the Mootday Parade. With budgets tight this year it was decided that we would only have local high school bands perform, and that was pretty much okay with everybody except for Ed Brickellhause, who lobbied hard for the inclusion of an Irish bagpipe band that he quite liked. Martha Little said the thing could be classed up by including a string quartet on the back of a flatbed and everybody said that it would be very nice. As a twist on the usual acrobats and such we all agreed that shooting a guy out of a cannon would be swell. As always clowns of all sorts, including whiteface, auguste, tramp, rodeo, harlequin, mime, jester, and politician, would be strictly prohibited.

This supremely unimportant discussion complete, lunch was eaten, with many cheeseburgers, clam plates, grilled cheese sandwiches, and hot dogs consumed. Mac and cheese was also a popular choice. Pies included apple, blueberry, lemon meringue, and strawberry-rhubarb. After this some chose to walk in the park while others retired to front porches. The breeze was shot.

In the evening fireworks were discussed. This went on until we all ran out of beer at which point we all went on up to bed.

Mootday 2010

Tomorrow, as you surely know is August 32, Mootday! It is the one holiday dedicated to insignificance. Nothing of importance is to be done on Mootday, and we'll be celebrating it here as we always do. The annual discussion of the theoretical Mootday parade will begin promptly at 10:00 A.M. Ice cream will be eaten, as will pie. Strolling, cloud watching, and sitting in the shade will be enjoyed. Things will be left undone, but may well be discussed. Happy Mootday everybody.

August 32

Did you have a good Mootday? We sure did. The traditional Mootday Breakfast of cold cereal and milk was enlivened this year with the addition of dried raspberries. And there was much rejoicing.

The annual discussion of a possible Mootday Parade was glorious. Several bands were discussed, including one fairly exciting high-stepping troupe of youths, as well as the famous Top Secret Swiss Drum Corps and at least one band that featured a cello section. Ragtime and klezmer musicians would be included. There would be acrobats and a guy on stilts, but clowns were to be excluded. This ban extended to professional politicians.

After the parade people retired to their front porches, where lemonade, iced tea, or good beer was consumed. Some chose to stroll through the park and sit on the grass. Ice cream vendors nearly ran out of cones. Jimmies were plentiful. In the evening diners, clam shacks, and roast beef joints were all crowded with hungry celebrants. The relative merits of fireworks were discussed. Most agreed that the ones that look sort of like chrysanthemums were pretty.

Mootday

Once I spent some time at a place where it was part of the routine to fill out forms. One of the routine forms was a log that recorded a couple of daily events. Running down one side of the form was a column of boxes labeled “date.” Once every few weeks we'd get to the bottom of one form and start afresh with another. Someone would usually fill out all of the dates in the appropriate column. One day I noticed that one of my colleagues had done this task. “8/28, 8/29, 8/30, 8/31, 8/32, 9/1, 9/2 . . .,” it now read.

I wondered about this. Was there a day I was missing out on? I couldn't remember having ever worked on August 32. Was there a holiday I was missing out on? I turned to the World Wide Interweb to see what I could find out. Turns out I had been missing something. There was a book about August 32. There was a movie. It is of some importance to the music industry. But there is not a lot of information about the glorious 32nd of August.

It seems to be a relatively blank page on the calendar. Before someone comes along and makes it a workday or a national day of remembrance or some such unpleasant thing, someone should claim August 32 as a holiday. As the foremost authority available, the task has fallen to me.

I declare August 32 to be Mootday. Mootday shall have no significance. No work shall be done on Mootday as it wouldn't matter if it did, so why bother? Take it easy, engage in theoretical discussions, have a drink, sit in a park, listen to birds, and just have a reasonably pleasant time.

Mark your calendars now. Happy Mootday.