Labor of Love


It’s May 1st. I am at home, sitting in front of the computer writing this post. I am off from work today, as are many in the Czech Republic. Though I hope not the bartenders at my local.

It’s Labor Day.

Today (only today) I am dressed to fit the mood of Labor Day. If I don’t have to do work, then neither should my body. My level of physical comfort should matched my level of mental comfort. I am in my very best pajamas (most comfortable Phillies shirt, loosest anti-laborious lounge pants). I am showing my body love, for while today is Labor Day, it is also Love Day.

Yeah, Love Day.

On this day in May, it is customary for young couples to smooch beneath a cherry blossom. Tradition has it that a young girl kissed beneath a cherry blossom will stay young all year round. Though I can’t remember whether it also boosts her fertility, I say why not, since almost every holiday custom includes something about increased fertility. Today, Petřín Hill is rife with those making out under blossoms. But since this is Prague and not Kyoto, cherry blossoms aren’t on every corner, so an amendment clause extends the benefit of kissing to any tree in bloom as well as in front of the statue of Karel Hynek Mácha, the Czech romantic poet.

Mácha’s poem “Máj” (May) is often cited as the inspirational base for Love Day. (I am not doing any labor today or I would research and cite that claim). It should be mentioned that Mácha died at the age of 25, so if he had lived a little longer he might have rounded out his poem about love with some other poems about the dread of a fakakta relationship, his couch, a good slice of pizza, enjoying prostitution, and the onset of hemorrhoids.

Though I am not laboring today, I have been thinking of all of those young woman who don’t have anyone to kiss under a blossom today. I don’t mean to suggest they can’t find someone, but rather they don’t know any non-clingy guys who won’t get the wrong idea about a Love Day kiss. They just want to score the youthful (and probably fertile) benefits, they don’t want anything serious.

So I would like to offer up my services (even though I am not working). I will head to Petřín Hill and hang out under some blossoms in my pajamas. I will watch the lovers kiss in the non-creepy manner of a man stroking a cat in baseball-themed pajamas. If any women have trouble explaining to their companions that this kiss is self-serving and nothing more, then I will leap to the rescue. I will take over the kissing, keeping young, and fertility duties.

A healthy terror of emotions and commitment all but guarantee that I won’t expect anything from you just as my pajamas will guarantee that you won’t expect anything from me. You get to stay young all year round, but don’t blame me if your fertility blows through the roof. It’s probably the pajamas.

  1. #1 by Jer. on May 3, 2017 - 1:35 am

    This was a fun read, and while I’m sure you already know this, Mácha died the day before he was to be married. If that isn’t straight out of a romantic tragedy I’m not sure I know what one would be.

    • #2 by Damien Galeone on May 4, 2017 - 11:49 am

      I didn’t know that before I did a quick research on him! That must be another story for another day!

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