Labor Day. What a great holiday. I remember the celebrations of yore. Big burly men like my father got a day off to celebrate the strength and contributions made by the working folks of this great country. Sometimes whole factories sponsored their workers for a free picnic and a day of recreation at Idora Park or Geauga Lake. Sometimes the ol’ man invited some friends and relatives over and strapped on an apron while grilling burgers and dogs as the children ran around playing, the right wing idiot brother-in-law ranted about politics, and Aunt Mary got sloppy drunk and fell down the stairs in her oversized sun dress; but I digress. Towns all across America had parades in honor of those who kept us moving forward.
But like Dylan said, “Times, they are a changing.” I propose transforming the holiday to meet the current social conditions of our nation. We should change the name from “Labor Day” to “Entitlement Day” to reflect the new reality. Instead of honoring firemen, teachers, factory workers and construction workers, we can honor the 8.8 million people who are receiving government disability, the 48 million receiving food stamps, the 5.6 million on unemployment compensation, the 2.5 million in jail and the 4.3 million on welfare.
I can imagine the parade now. We could call up all our addicted friends and on SSI using our free government issued Obama phones and tell them to grab a chair on Main Street.
Look. Here comes the first exhibit: it’s a group of unwed mothers riding in the Planned Parenthood float. Quick, Joey, wave to them while they throw you free contraceptives. Next up is the Veterans of Addiction float. Poor fellows had to scrape up some money for float decorations from the $2,500 a month they receive for screwing up their own brains. The judges sure will have a hard time picking the best exhibit this year between the Counseling Center, Job and Family Services, the Probation Department, the County Jail, the Daughters of Deadbeat Dads, the Family Recovery Center and the Social Security Administration.
Honk honk, beep beep, aah uugg haaaa. Yep, it’s the clowns as our final exhibit. Not the ones from Aut Mori Grotto, I’m talking about the politicians who pander votes that screw the working people for whom this day was made. Ah, but why complain. Guess I should just sit back and watch another episode of “freeloaders behaving badly” and enjoy my hamburger helper.