Labor Day Renewal

Periodic renewal has been an important part of my life, and I think it is in the life of most. The chance to knock the dust off the recent past or perhaps reboot more serious matters helps us move forward, create desired change, and adapt to our ever-evolving life situations. That might seem a strange notion for a person like me who enjoys living in the past as much as he can. But upon closer examination, it shouldn't be surprising at all. The trick to keeping the best parts of the past alive is to understand what makes them important and find ways to integrate them with what is interesting and relevant about the present. To me, Labor Day has always presented a natural opportunity for this type of renewal.

The popular notion is that January 1st is the traditional time for renewal. But I submit that even with its focus on New Year's resolutions (including the usual avalanche of fitness schemes), more change actually takes place with the passing of Labor Day. This is certainly true for anyone even remotely involved with formal schooling, but there are other forces at play here as well.

The weather is a big one. It is easy to sense the change in the air as we take the quick slide from Labor Day to the autumnal equinox and the decrease in sunlight and temperature that it brings. (I'm obviously talking as a Michigander here. This slide may be less dramatic in other parts of the country, but my guess is it still exists.) This necessitates a renewal of wardrobe. Tee shirts and shorts are abandoned in favor of long sleeve sweatshirts and jeans. Deck shoes and sandals are replaced by sneakers and hi-top walkers, and in the Pointes sock drawers are cracked for the first time in months. Jackets and coats are hauled out from summer storage and associated with appropriate and matching hats, gloves and scarves, to make sure any needed replacements can be procured before the clothing stores shift to spring wear (which is usually about the first of November). This in turn results in serviceable items that are no longer fashionable being bagged and carted off to secondhand stores, to pass on the chain of renewal to other segments of the economy.

Sports also change around Labor Day. There is the seismic shift from baseball to football with games of our favorite teams becoming less frequent but more important, accompanied by renewed hopes for bowl appearances and victories over traditional rivals. (This has special meaning for those of you who, like me, live in a Green and Blue household.) College football has always been a big favorite at our house and sets the agenda for many fall Saturdays. In Detroit our professional football season usually only lasts about a month, until the first puck is dropped in the NHL. But this year our normally hapless Lions appear to have a decent team and are actually threatening to extend the season at least to Thanksgiving. And of course, Labor Day traditionally marks the time our Tigers begin to fade into the sunset, finding ever more creative ways to escape the playoffs and avoid scheduling conflicts with the Red Wings. (I admit to the faithful that last year was an exception, but this year our local boys of summer seem to have returned to form, despite our hopes to the contrary.) From a neighborhood standpoint, Labor Day brings a steady diet of high school and travel league soccer games, as the Grosse Pointe North soccer field lies just the other side of our back yard fence. It's always been a great treat that we could pull up an Adirondack in our back yard or slip through our gate to the bleachers to watch and enjoy the local kids giving their all.

But back to school for a moment, the big enchilada in the Labor Day change fest. New classes, new schedules, new teachers, trips for new school supplies, sometimes new schools or new post-class child care arrangements, back-to-school nights, college-prep fairs, the terror of parent-teacher conferences, the grind of after-school sports and music activities - you get the point. And during the college years it was moving kids back to new dorms or apartments, often toting more total tonnage than I carted into my first house. I remember one relocation to a dorm at Michigan that required five power strips to service the various media hubs.

When I was a kid, there was also the ritual of new school clothes, a concept that it seems has been totally lost in today's world. I remember with fondness the process of looking through the Sears catalog and picking (with parental concurrence) new pants, shirts, shoes and accessories that were suitable for wearing to school. These items were also to be taken off upon return from school each day in favor of play clothes, which often consisted of items from the previous year's wardrobe that were a little tired or did not quite fit anymore. During my middle and high school days jeans, tee shirts, sneakers and any shirt that did not tuck into your trousers were expressly banned from school. In today's world, things seem to be a bit less regulated, although there still must be some rules. I remember one back-to-school night when a teacher challenged the attending parents with the statement, "You don't think your kids arrive at school in the same clothes they left home in, do you?" Food for thought for those of you still engaged in the high school wars.

Though I have not had a kid in high school since 2003, our post-Labor Day weekday routine is still dependent on certain school events.  The most critical of these is the mid-afternoon exodus of teen drivers from the main entrance of Grosse Pointe North, which lies between our driveway and about any place we might like to go.  Picture the start of the Indy 500 only with people just tall enough to see over the steering wheel driving open-air Jeep Wranglers.  I know at least a couple of you dear readers are or soon will be spawning teen drivers of your own, and I wish you success.  My best advice for supervising this training is to lie down on the back seat of the vehicle with your eyes on the ceiling.  Have the driver-in-training tell you when the trip is over.  Then crawl out of the nearest door and kiss the ground.  This approach effectively removes the parent from the training experience (which the driver will like) and reduces the parent's need for high blood pressure medication (which your doctor will like).

During my working years (man, I like the sound of that), Labor Day also signaled change at the office. September was filled with exaggerated accounts of accomplishments from the fiscal year that was ending, to be surpassed only by the grandiose plans for achievement in the new fiscal year. There were appraisals to write and budgets to close out.  In flush years there was last minute training to schedule and attend.  In lean years, there was well-planned training to unjustify and cancel.  And there was a host of other tracking and reporting systems to tie up and put to bed by 9/30 (each to be re-birthed in updated and shinier form for the new fiscal year on 10/1). Even after 40 years of government service, so far I'm having no withdrawal pains from not being allowed to participate in this year's administrative stampede.

Of course, this Labor Day has special meaning for me as I recover from the continuous celebration that was July and August and begin to assess just what changes retirement will bring to my daily life. Recent experiences with the Passport Office and the Social Security Administration have more than confirmed that I am now on the other side of the bulletproof glass. Although both my exchanges with Uncle Sam worked out fine, I was clearly just another assignment in someone's automated inventory system.  Overcoming years of leadership and problem-solving experience, I quickly learned that my best strategy was to take a number, wait patiently in line and speak only when spoken to. Assuming my SSA interview responses check out, I should be getting my Medicare card before I need to order new tires for my Hoveround.

But the biggest change for me this Labor Day is how I will spend the inordinate amount of time I now have at my disposal. I have often in the past remarked pompously to others stressing over busy schedules, "You have all the time there is. What counts is how you choose to use it." Well, that advice has come back to haunt me. It seems that now I truly do have all the time there is (excepting the occasional chore - see previous post on this issue.)  Here's hoping I make good use of my new-found fortune, and that this year's Labor Day renewal turns out to be all I'm hoping it can be.

I'm sure many of you have Labor Day renewal sentiments and stories that we would love to hear. Please feel free to share. And Happy Labor Day renewal to all!