Looking forward to better times

According to our National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration’s Sunrise/Sunset calculator, the “apparent” sunrise and sunset at the flagpole on Norris Avenue (40°12’10.13”N, 100°37’32.79”W) will be 7 a.m. and 8:30 p.m. respectively on Friday, August 21. Just one month ago, on July 21, apparent sunrise, the period when light is refracted just before the sun crosses above the horizon, was at 6:31 a.m. and apparent sunset was at 8:30 In one month, our day has grown an hour shorter. Fall is on the way.

Thankfully, our public schools are back in session. As the result of a great deal of planning, reconfiguring of classrooms, restructuring of schedules and routines, and no small amount of personal courage, our educators have put mechanisms in place to do what they do best: to bring the kids back to school; to educate and cultivate curious minds. Were it not for the unceremonious expulsion of Mr. Bill casting a shadow on the enterprise, they would all get my nomination for teacher of the year. My hope is that the precautions are overkill and that we can proceed through the school year without any serious setbacks.

It’s only 17 days until we celebrate our most socialistic of holidays, labor day. While we are expected to be singing about Joe Hill and cursing the Taft-Hartley Act, Labor Day is more often seen as the official end to summer. We’re more apt to observe it by leaning over a hot grill and moving our white shoes to the back of the closet than reflecting on the gains made by the labor movement, but that’s OK with me. I have mixed feelings about organized labor. As someone who has coal miners on both sides of my family, I can appreciate the role of collective bargaining in the pursuit of mine safety (such as it is), but I also find it hard to forget what killed Detroit, and to a large extent, the American middle class. Enjoy your burgers and hotdogs and your last day on the lake before you put the boat away. If nothing else, I think we can all agree that children are better off in school than in a factory. Let’s leave it at that.

In 71 days, it will be Halloween, and this year, it falls on a Saturday. I am among those reviled apostates who believe that they should all fall on a Saturday. Every now and then, we have a public discussion about moving the observation of Halloween to the last Saturday in October, wherever that should fall. I think it makes perfect sense, for both parents and the little ones. Kids shouldn’t have to go to school on Halloween. Parents shouldn’t have to scramble for last-minute costume items and candy after work on a weekday and getting kids out of bed the next morning is a challenge as well. My kids are old enough that I really don’t have skin in the game anymore, but my memories are fresh enough that I remain firmly in the Saturday camp.

In 74 days, we will have an election. Perhaps you have heard about it. Who knows when the results will be counted. If the disastrous New York primary is any indication, this one might make the hanging chads of the 2000 Bush-Gore recount look like a picnic. Just for clarification, there is a world of difference between the traditional absentee ballot system in which I proudly participate, and the universal mail ballot system that presents additional opportunities for fraud. Add to that the challenges already faced by USPS (whom I support) and we have a formula for a potentially, very long week.

97 days from now we will celebrate Thanksgiving, and I have to admit that I’m a bit concerned about the future of the holiday. In a time when statues are being toppled and founding fathers are being questioned, a holiday observing the survival of colonizing Europeans (however rooted in ancient harvest celebrations) will not be celebrated by all, regardless of who was invited to the original event.

It is, in fact, the Native American community who are least fond of the Holiday. Before I moved to McCook 25 years ago, there was a radio promotion in Denver where contestants competed to win a catered Thanksgiving feast to be served in the back of a Mayflower moving van. Protesters spilled onto the grounds of the State Capitol and raised holy heck until the radio station was pressured to withdraw the contest. That was nearly 30 years ago. Can you imagine what would happen today?

In my heart, it remains a day of thanks, a traditional harvest holiday, and a remembrance of the struggle of the settlers at Jamestown, Roanoke, and throughout the rest of the colonies. Yes, the Native Americans got a bad deal, and we should remember that too, but for at least one feast, we came together. We can only hope for more to come.

OK. Now the true panic sets in. As of today, it is 126 days to Christmas. That’s four months and four days to make your list, check it twice, and shell out large sums of money. The optimist in me recalls that as a general rule, the retail sector tends to be a leading indicator when we emerge from a recession. If we can return kids to school without a significant spike in positive virus cases, it would be nice to finish out the fourth quarter on a strong note. That, of course, also depends upon the results of November 3 and the resulting consumer confidence. There will be winners and there will be losers. My only prediction is that if the results are not accepted by both sides, we all lose.

And last, in 133 days we will end this god-forsaken miscreant of a year and enter 2021. By then, we will be out of daylight savings time (as of November 1) and apparent sunrise will be at 8:05 and apparent sunset will be 5:28. Let’s hope that when we retire for the evening, we can look forward to a better year than this one.