Uncle Al likes to party.

He doesn’t traipse from bar to bar, get falling down drunk and hang on strangers while loudly proclaiming, “I love you, man!”

Uncle Al doesn’t drink. He doesn’t need to.

Uncle Al enjoys life and looks for every opportunity to share that joy with others. He is not a “glass-half-full” kind of guy. He is a “glass-over-flowing — here-take-some-of-mine” kind of guy.

To that end, Uncle Al is always on the lookout for a reason to get the party started. While rummaging through his local Goodwill Store, Uncle Al came across a book of official and unofficial holidays.

We all know about Memorial Day, Labor Day, President’s Day and the like. Some of us have even heard of Talk Like A Pirate Day — a glorious day for partying and proclaiming “Arrggghh” and “Shiver me timbers.”

However, few people know about St. Swithun’s day.

Swithun was an Anglo-Saxon Bishop of Winchester. Interestingly (at least to me), his name is loosely translated to mean “Pig Man” (It could mean “strong,” but “Pig Man” is much more entertaining). He was regarded as one of the saints to whom one should pray in the event of a drought.

St. Swithun’s Day is supposed to be celebrated on July 15 (if it is celebrated, at all).

Uncle Al decided that St. Swithun’s day is such an obscure holiday, he should be able to purloin the day and use it, whenever and however he pleased. Who would know? Are there “holiday police” that monitor the proper time and means of celebrating odd and unknown holidays? Probably not. Why not enjoy it whenever you want to? Why wait a whole year? Why wait for a drought?

St. Swithun’s day has become Uncle Al’s favorite holiday, meant to be trotted out and enjoyed whenever things start to slow down and become a little dull. Uncle Al figures there are all manner of ways for celebrating St. Swithun’s day. However, there are many ways for not celebrating his favorite holiday.

People don’t need to dress in green like they do on St. Patrick’s Day. They don’t need to spend unnecessary amounts of money on flowers and candy like they do on St. Valentine’s Day. They shouldn’t be bombarded with automobile commercials, strangely associated with President’s Day — Uncle Al, and nearly everyone else, is still trying to figure out why new car dealers chose President’s Day as the day for having “blockbuster” sales promotions (or what a “blockbuster” actually is).

The one thing Al would like to see is the St. Swithun’s Day parade. He envisions no one lining the streets, watching the parade. Everyone should be in the street, wearing little pig noses (and maybe curly pig tails), shooting squirt guns at each other (just in case there is a drought going on), and screaming “Happy St. Swithun’s Day.”

It could happen, and Al should be the first grand marshal.

 

Larry Wilson is a mostly lifelong resident of Niles. His optimistic “glass full to overflowing” view of life shapes his writing. His essays stem from experiences, compilations and recollections from friends and family. Wilson touts himself as “a dubiously licensed teller of tall tales, sworn to uphold the precept of ‘It’s my story; that’s the way I’m telling it.’” He can be reached at wflw@hotmail.com.