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Volume CXXXI, Number 21 |
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We need new customs- like hibernation
CRAIG GIAMMONA
The great Danish philosopher Soren Kierkegaard once quipped
to a few friends gathered around pints of Carlsberg in a Copenhagen café,
"People commonly travel around the world to see rivers and mountains,
new stars, birds of rare plumage, queerly deformed fish, ridiculous breeds
of men-they abandon themselves to the bestial stupor which gapes at existence,
and they think they have seen something."
I think that Kierkegaard might be right about the way some
people travel. They rush off to places for two days, run to museums, run
to this square or that brothel, then hop on a train and head for the next
spot, where they again defile the local pulse with torn McDonald's wrappers
and loud untimely Steve Austin quotes.
I am as guilty of this as the next guy, but I have taken
my travel slow enough to realize that things function differently in different
places. I was amazed when I got to Spain and did not sit down to dinner
until 9:30 p.m., and was unable to buy things during certain hours because
of siesta. Imagine how a Spaniard would feel when he came to Bowdoin and
rushed off to the dining hall at 5:15 p.m.
On the other hand, if this Spaniard got hungry at other
times during the day a store would be open because we do not have siesta
in America. It works both ways.
One of my favorite European cultural staples is the consistent
absence of open container laws. From Camden Town in the heart of London
all the way to the Charles Bridge in Prague, Europeans have the right
to drink beer outside. Correct me if I am wrong, but I think this makes
a ton of sense. Who out there doesn't like to drink beer outside? Would
you rather enjoy a bottle of Rolling Rock or a tepid glass of Natural
Ice or even a martini on a city bench, or in some dingy, trash-filled,
barren-walled apartment?
All of this is to say that I think America needs to make
a concerted effort to be a better, more relaxed place to live. We need
to begin to cultivate American culture.
I understand why Europeans give Americans sass about our
nation's infancy. We are a young country, but with a little imagination,
we can use this to our advantages. Rather then settling for age-old customs
that are antiquated and boring, we have the luxury of creating new ones.
As we look down upon the rest of the world from our comfortable
perch atop Mount Hegemony, Americans must realize that they are the cultivators
of global values and that it is our job to define the times in which we
are superior. So far, all we have to show the world is the death penalty,
an irrational drug war, an arrogant foreign policy, and a hardworking
sexually prudish polity. This needs to change.
My first proposal is a way to deal with these nasty life-denying
winters. I know I have dealt with this topic before, but with the recent
adjustment of the clocks and the abundance of life-affirming daylight
hours, I have realized that we can do something about the terrible effects
of Maine winters. I am proposing the institution of human hibernation.
I am willing to accept that October and November are reasonable
months. I do not mind waking up on a brisk Sunday in November, nor do
I mind Thanksgiving. Halloween has to stay, and I think it is important
for people to witness the death of the leaves.
In my plan, December would also be left intact, but it would
be drastically reworked, turning the dark, cold month into a period of
festivals, debauchery, and contemplation. December 1 would be a major
holiday marking the kickoff of 17 to 20 days of hedonism. Each day would
be filled with extravagant feasts, which would give people a chance to
fatten up and relax with the people they care about. The festivals would
stop in time for religious observances, and more solemn and moderated
feasts would lead us through Christmas and toward the New Year.
As a society, we would celebrate New Year's per usual and
then head off for hibernation. The sleep would last for all of January,
February, and most of March.
March 21 and the following several days would be spent waking
up. The grogginess that accompanies one's daily arousal from bed would
be magnified exponentionally over the course of the 11-week hibernation,
mandating a 7-10 day period in which people slowly adjust to natural light
and the other elements of "normal existence."
April 1 would be another huge national holiday, and a weeklong
party would welcome everyone back to consciousness. On April 8, our society
would return to normalcy.
You might find these suggestions extreme but they make a great deal of sense. It is not that the Maine winter is that bad, it's just that people expect us to "do things" during it. No level of productivity is natural during the harsh winter, a point that is hammered home by the vibrancy we all feel when the sun finally comes out in mid-April. All I am really doing is articulating the natural urge inside all of us to simply eat and sleep through the winter.