May Day; Mayday!

May Day! May Day! Not to be confused with Mayday, Mayday, which equates to “The fucking ship is sinking!” or “Air traffic control, we have a problem!”

Here’s what the internet had to say about May Day:

"May Day occurs on May 1 and refers to any of several public holiday. In many countries, May Day is synonymous with International Workers' Day, or Labor Day, which celebrates the social and economic achievements of the labor movement. "

Huh? I'm confused.

Remember the game “telephone” where one person called someone; saying only one word into the phone, and then that person would call the next person, saying the exact same word and so on and so on until when it finally got around to the last person, its original connotation was something completely different from where it originally started? I think that’s what’s happened to May Day.

Here’s my rendition of May Day:

As a little girl, my mom used to say things to me like, “April showers bring May flowers.” Or, “The first day of May is for flowers.” So when May 1st rolled around and sure nuff’, lots of gorgeous flowers were in full bloom, and for some reason I felt compelled to pick them; bunches of beautiful, well manicured flowers from my neighbor’s gardens and I remember rose gardens seemed to be the best flowers for picking.

Imagine this cute, little, blond, skinny kid running around the neighborhood with a pair of scissors (running + scissors = stupid) stealing flowers. I was pretty good at persuading others to help me in my pursuit in a life of crime, so of course I'd enlist the help of my friends that lived close by, the accomplices; my subordinates.

We'd leave random bouquets on front porches as gifts to celebrate the first day of May; a door bell ditch with a prize, so-to-speak. Then you run like hell; looking over your shoulder; making sure you were clear from the recipient's view. We had a system too, we wouldn’t leave stolen flowers on a porch from the same garden we'd just pillaged and plundered, because good God you didn’t ever want to get caught! My imagination would run wild: A really pissed off gardener holding a daisy rifle coming after me for stealing their flowers, or something much worse, and sinister my mom. My mom would have killed me, hell she would have killed us all. Death by mom glare for stealing flowers; what a painful way to die.

I was such a sweet kid. What the hell happened? (Sorry, I do digress)

Speaking of digression, if you think for a minute the stuff you did as a kid doesn’t somehow come back to bite you in the Karma ass, you better think again, my friend. As a mature woman (yeah, right) who enjoys gardening, I have been known to get a little hyper if some neighborhood kid so much as looks side ways at my roses; stressed over the thought of someone taking the fruits of my labor (see original May Day description above).

So watch out, all you past flower stealers, because today is May Day and you may run into kids in your neighborhood today running with scissors; they have flower stealing on their minds. You can find me hiding behind one of my arborvitae trees; daisy rifle ready for combat.

Okay, I’m kidding…sort of.


How do you or did you celebrate the first day of May?

p.s. Today is my friend Marla's birthday, and it just happens to be her twin sister, Audra's birthday too; so coincidental (smile). If you see either one of these May Day women, don't forget to wish them a happy birthday.