It’s not that I’m against celebrating anticipated annual days of note on the calendar — certainly Thanksgiving and Christmas — and I adore the Fourth of July and even barely recognized Arbor Day. Veteran’s Day? You betcha. Same with Memorial Day. But Columbus Day? Meh. Presidents’ Day? I guess.
Still, the days that don’t inspire me do inspire others and they’ve been around forever. It’s a big deal, after all, to have a nationally proclaimed day named after a person or idea. But it’s gotten to the point where it’s just … ok, for example, here’s a partial list of nationally recognized days in October, alone:
National Produce Misting Day (not thoroughly washing away E. coli day, mind you, just misting day)
National Fluffernutter Day (oh, shut up)
National Orange Wine Day (that would be vinegar, wouldn’t it?)
The point is, there are so many ridiculous “Days” sandwiched between those that are far more deserving (National Custodial Workers’ Appreciation Day and National Have Coffee with a Cop Day, to name a couple), that it sort of robs the significance from them.
I mean, to designate Oct. 10 as World Mental Health Day, which is enormously important, especially during this uncertain time, but making it elbow its way for recognition between National Handbag Day and National Cake Decorating Day, which are both on the same date — it really makes me want to then launch Oct. 11 as National See What You Made Me Do Day? followed by I Hope You’re Happy Now Day.
As I type away, I notice that this particular date — Oct. 13 — is actually National No Bra Day. Boy, don’t you know the guys must hate that one! In reality, it’s about Breast Cancer, but why they don’t call it National Breast Cancer Awareness Day is beyond me. Besides, I to be totally honest, I most certainly don’t need a day to tell me not to wear a bra. I haven’t worn one since the advent of COVID-19. And neither has any woman I know that’s working from home. It’s a fact of life these last several months: Men aren’t wearing pants and women aren’t wearing bras. The only time it’s embarrassing, as my friend, Nan Gray, put it, is when someone unexpectedly rings the doorbell and we have to inwardly squirm as we stand with our arms folded over our dinners the entire time. Which is tricky while trying to sign for that UPS package.
Well, Nan does. I don’t. I never have.
Which is why I might just lobby for National No One Noticed I’m Not Wearing a Bra Day. Pretty depressing, I know. It could be followed by Do You Realize You Just Called Me Sir? Day. And stuck in right before I Can’t Find Any Decent Shoes In My Size Day.
It’s enough to make a gal knock back some Orange Wine.