Ah, mid-November. Best time of the year.
Kidding, of course. This is, in fact, the dreariest time of the year -at least, in my estimation.
March has tulips. June has flip flops. August has Sun Fest. October has turkey.
And what does November have? Umbrellas. Fog. Penetrating chill.
Sure, you can get your jollies by getting a jump on Christmas shopping, but you can't do that all day, every day. Mostly, I find myself inside looking out, and wondering what the weather's like on Oahu.
I propose, then, that something be done to lift the spirits at the gloomiest time on the calendar. Call it November Fun Day. Or better still, November Fun Week. Or better still, Mirth Month.
During Mirth Month - and hey, I'm just thinking out loud here - we'd immerse ourselves in all manner of amusements. You know. Dunk tanks at work. Bingo games on the buses. Twister competitions at college.
Man, the possibilities are endless.
Fancy taking part in a pie-eating contest at the barber shop? Bring it on! Like the notion of a puttputt course at the supermarket? A Mirth Month natural, I'd say.
Instead of longing for Oahu, we could set up our own tropical island - complete with sand, mai tais and ukuleles. At the library, perhaps. Or in the middle of the mall.
Mirth Month, by golly, could end up being something we look forward to all year long. It could, I reckon, even be envied by that smug little July, who thinks she's the month that reigns supreme.
"Man," we'd be moaning. "It's only April. That's means dozens of weeks until Mirth Month."
Think March is special, given it signals the start of spring? Think May has it all, what with Mother's Day, Victoria Day and those sweet-smelling days in the garden?
They'd never come close to Mirth Month, my friends, especially if high schools required all students to wear pirate costumes and all businesses were mandated to hang up dart boards and mini basketball hoops.
The month may still be dreary. Pirates and dart boards aside, we'd still have to put up with drizzle, darkness and that prewinter chill.
Not a problem, I say. Give me a little mirth this month, and I'll happily live with the rain.
