Happy St. Crispian's Day!

Christmas doesn't do anything for me. For most people there is either a religious or familiar significance to it, but not for me. I don't know where I stand with the whole Jesus thing, and don't feel like getting wrapped up in something that, in my opinion, is a mish-mash of bizarre iconographies. As for the family aspect, as a recovering Jehovah's Witness I never celebrated Christmas in my childhood, so there is no sentiment attached. And my family still doesn't celebrate it, so there is no comradeship to be had.

But I like the idea of holidays, of a sequence of seasonal events that people celebrate as a society. So I have come up with my own liturgical calendar of events to observe. Today: Saint Crispian's Day! I delivered gaudy second-hand shoes to all my former English teachers with the following sonnet attached:

In honor of St. Crispian, patron saint
Of cobblers, I offer you this shoe.
It came from Goodwill and may have a taint;
I wouldn’t put it on if I were you.
Instead, go find the owner of its mate
And talk to them of bloody battles won,
And of what makes your band of brothers great.
Discuss the jerks whose papers aren’t done,
Evaluations lab’ling you a bore,
And students who mid-class answer their pagers.
“Once more into the breach, dear friends, once more,
Or close the wall up with our English Majors!”
With red pens drawn, advance on plagiarism,
And incomplete work!

* * *

Next month: Guy Fawke's Day! Prepare for flaming effigies, O Colorado Springs . . .