Tag Archives: Labor Day

He Hit Me (It Felt Like a Kiss)

It’s Labor Day 2009. For some it’s the end of summer, for others it’s back to work, back to school. For me it’s another day.

All the ample parking that existed in Hoboken for the past couple of months is gone. They’re all back and shopping at the supermarket all at once. It’s a madhouse.

Labor Day for me was the last holiday before school started. Growing up it was usually the weekend of the Romaine Singer VFW Post 3484 picnic at Saddle River County Park in Saddle Brook.

My father was a member and most of my family would go. There were other kids to play with as the adults generally got really drunk. Usually there was a major fist fight each year, sometimes because one guy smacked his wife and someone would intervene.

“Don’t hit your wife!”
‘Don’t tell me what to do! Mind your own fucking business!’
Bam! Pow! Smack Smack!

Me and the other kids would get all sugared up at the 7Up trailer, drinking as much orange soda as we could. There would be egg tossing contests and a tug of war and softball as activities. Most families knew to stay away from the picnic area on those days, drunken veterans were not to be fooled with.

We would also play in the Saddle River, avoiding the carcasses of water rats as they floated downstream. Eventually the picnic would end as the park would close at dusk. Lot’s of drunk driving home, no accidents reported.

Remember this was the 1970’s when if you were pulled over by the police you would be told to drive directly home.

Mostly the veterans were all from World War II and the Korean War. A sprinkling of Vietnam vets were eventually represented. At some point in the 1970’s the picnics moved from the County Park to a space behind the VFW on Market Street in Saddle Brook, between the road and Riverside Jewish Cemetery.

The other children of the veterans and myself would play in those woods before it was developed, learning how to smoke cigarettes.

It was more contained in that space by the cemetery, still a fist fight would occur, oyster shuckers would throw down their shucking knives and join the melee. I only went to one or two of the picnics there.

No 7Up trailers there and the other kids were off doing other things, perhaps joining Al-A-Teen. It started not being fun sitting there watching the adults get 3 sheets to the wind.

In the 1980’s I did go to the Labor Day parade in Manhattan with my friend Lois. That was sparsely attended by both marchers and spectators.

I also went to the Carnival in Flatbush a few times on Labor Day. Each successive year I had less and less of a good time, eventually avoiding it all together. I

went with Rand & Lisa once, also with Julio once and another time hanging out with my old Rasta pal Marcus. The time with Marcus was mainly a blur since I was quite red eyed when I left. I am pretty sure I had a good time though.

Don’t Feel Like Dancin’

Well I didn’t do much at all today. Bill and I stayed local. Most of the day, local meant staying in the apartment. I was itchy to go out, if not the city then Hoboken. Anywhere rather than staying in. Bill napped, I finished off the Lord of the Rings. Got choked up again at the end, Frodo going off to the undying lands.

I avoided the Jerry Lewis telethon. A few years ago I got caught up in it and donated some money. But that was when I was living in Weehawken and everything was cheaper. This time of year is aways tinged with despair. It always signified the end of summer, which technically it isn’t. The whole sinking feeling of having to go back to school.

Bill and I walked around Hoboken and that was the subject at hand. Of course the mention of my having to be pried off the fence at St. Francis de Sales at the beginning of the school year was brought up. Me horizontal being held by someone deaf to my screams and cries. Yes, that’s when the whole abandonment issues started up I guess.

Growing up, this weekend was when the VFW Post 3484 had their annual picnic in Saddle Brook County Park. Fried foods, shucked clams, playing in the Saddle River, drunken veterans occasionally smacking their wives and getting thumped by quite a few not as drunk fellow veterans.

Eventually the adults realized that they would have to go home with their families, the kids whining, the parents buzzed. Keep in mind, this was the 1970’s, and if you were pulled over by the police for drunk driving, you would more than likely be told to drive home directly.

I really hated school. All of my life I hated it. It was a source of torment and bad feelings a lot of the time. Maybe it was me not being a good student, maybe I had lousy teachers. When I was given the opportunity to go to college, or actually when college was mentioned as a choice I rejected it. If I hated going to school when it was mandatory, it would be a waste of money for me to go and continue my education.

I think I chose wisely on that front. Still that horrible feeling over Labor Day weekend hits me every year. Talking about it absolutely helped and I walked Bill over to the Path train and found a quiet spot on the river where I smoked a Padron and read the New Yorker and watched a helicopter get dangerously close to various boats and buildings on the Manhattan side of the Hudson. Scary to watch but nothing bad happened.

I also seemed to be the only one paying attention. Ran into Rand and Lisa as we walked along Sinatra Drive. They were headed in the opposite direction. We walked over to Castle Point Terrace, a block of some really nice buildings by Stevens Tech.

That came about from a few days ago when I asked Bill if he could live anywhere in Hoboken where would it be. He said Garden Street because of the trees, I mentioned up where were were. Big old buildings, pre war. Nice and semi secluded.

And Sarah Palin is going to be a grandmother! How happy she must be for her 17 year old unwed daughter. Everyone’s happy about it! Abstinence only education works! Yeah!