Many people consider this to be Summer’s last hurrah, and they do everything they can to wring the last drops of Summer fun out of these three days.
I’m taking advantage of the beautiful weather by writing this post on the front porch of The House on the Hill. It still looks and feels like Summer out here, and I just wish the season would never end.
Maine gets a little dangerous once Summer departs, you know.
Let’s head out to the Think Tank for our last Philosophical Exercise of the Summer. I’ve asked the interns to fire up the grill and put some Snapple on ice. Who wants a red hot dog? The go perfect with Deep Thoughts!
This week’s topic: What comes to mind when you think of Labor Day Weekend?
When I was a wee lad still sporting a junior size toga, Labor Day Weekend meant the last days at Lake Ronkonkoma before we returned to Brooklyn for the school year.
Summers at Lake Ronkonkoma met going to day camp, swimming (and trying not to drown) in the lake and at the Hidden Pond Park pool, barbecues, spending time with my stepmother’s family who lived in Ronkonkoma all year, and making friends who only existed in my life from the end of June through August.
Labor Day Weekend meant it was all coming to an end. We’d have to pack up the house and get ready for another school year. I wasn’t the biggest fan of school back then, and I dreaded having to get the Catholic School uniform out of mothballs.
Summer meant no homework, chasing fireflies at night, staying up late, and not really having a care in the world. Labor Day Weekend suddenly meant that curfews, homework, and responsibility were returning.
My little sister’s birthday is August 31, so it always seems like we had a party for her over the Labor Day Weekend.
Once I finished high school, however, Labor Day Weekend took on a whole new meaning. It meant going off to NYU, moving back into the dorm, and resuming a life with my college friends. It meant freedom, independence, taking advantage of life in New York City, living and hanging out with beautiful girls who actually enjoyed spending time with me, being the President of my Residence Hall, going to Film School, hanging out in Washington Square Park, staying out all night…
That’s my old dorm on the left. Now called Goddard Hall, it was Stern Hall for the first three years I lived there.
Back in the good old days.
I loved Labor Day Weekend during this time in my life because it meant I could finally stop working all Summer to pay for NYU, and actually go to NYU and have some fun.
Learning was very important.
So what about you, Modern Philosophers? What kind of Deep Thoughts does Labor Day Weekend conjure up for you?