Archive for May 12th, 2016

A Holiday By Any Other Name

Can you have jet lag after a road trip? Apparently so. Thus, after a 700-mile RT to Ashland, Oregon, I’m repurposing my May 5 post on Kevin Tipple’s blog.

Next week, I’ll report on the Ashland trip. This might make me a week behind for the rest of the year, but I’ll have to risk it!

A Holiday By Any Other Name

First, I never met a holiday or celebration I didn’t like. Birthdays, anniversaries, Saints’ Days, Countries’ Days—I love them all. When I taught physics in college, my students and I gathered in the lounge every Friday to celebrate the birthday of a scientist or mathematician. Enrico Fermi on September 29, 1901; Marie Curie on November 7, 1867; the patent for the Sundback zipper on March 20, 1917

I may be the only person you know who begs a friend for a ticket to her son’s high school graduation, even though I met him only once as we passed in her driveway. I love pomp. I love circumstance.

I grew up just outside of Boston, where Patriot’s Day (April 19) was as big a holiday as the Fourth of July, and Bunker Hill Day (June 17) overshadowed Labor Day.

I cheered for my father every year as he marched in the Sons of Italy band on the Feast of San Gennaro. Technically on September 19, but in reality the feast went on for about two weeks at the end of September, because there was no end to the number of sausages or cannoli one could consume in honor of the fourteenth century Neapolitan martyr. The odor of fried zeppoli would last another two weeks.

One of the biggest fusses erupted on Columbus Day (October 12) with the city’s largest parade taking over the news. It was a while before I realized that the rest of the country hardly takes notice of the anniversaries of Paul Revere’s ride or our loss to the British at the Battle of  Bunker Hill. It took even longer for me to accept that some parts of the country didn’t even believe in Columbus’s achievement.

I was nearly 40 when I first ventured out of the EST zone and traveled to California, where among the parking meter holidays for October was Indigenous Peoples Day!

I’ll join in on celebrations of any kind, however, and so I was ready to embrace some of the new-to-me holidays like Cesar Chavez Day (March 31) and the Feast of Junipero Serra (July 1). Admissions Day had me confused at first— was the whole state celebrating the arrival of freshmen to various campuses? Some kind soul eventually explained to me that September 9 was the day California had been admitted to the union.

“How can you not  know that?” a native asked me.

“You’re right, I should know,” I responded, struggling to gain back my dignity. “After all, Massachusetts was on the Admitting Committee.”

In other words: give me a break.

Back to Cinco de Mayo. There was a time when I celebrated May 5 only as the birthday of Peter Cooper Hewitt, inventor of the mercury vapor lamp, precursor to fluorescent lighting.

My ignorance caught up with me when my first book, “The Hydrogen Murder,” was released. In it, my protagonist, a Boston native like me, refers to Cinco de Mayo as Mexican Independence Day.

Shoot me now. I received a flurry of attacks. Just like a gringo, they all said.

It turns out (in case you’re also a short-sighted East Coaster) that the real Mexican Independence Day is September 16. Cinco de Mayo celebrates a short-lived victory over the French, and apparently is a big deal only in the US.

But count on me to join in on your favorite holiday celebration. Especially if there’s cake involved, I’ll be there. Just give me a few minutes and an Internet connection so I can bone up on the correct details.