Grown Up Ditch Day

I have much to do today, sometimes too much. The thing about getting old and out of school is you miss that fall/spring break time that students get. Really, each year just melds into the next with barely a breather. I don’t even know how old I am because it’s all the same at this point. Vacations in America are 2 weeks and I hear trending towards LESS, so those are out. Plus vacations have reservations and maps and that’s just not what I am getting at for a ditch day. And who the hell created the 5 day (or more) work week and just two measly days off to relax! And if you figure in all the kids’ birthday parties and other events each weekend, it’s really not that much relaxation, is it?

When I was a kid, I sent a letter to President Gerald Ford requesting that a Kid’s Day be officially a holiday. I did receive a lovely letter back (on the super cool White House embossed stationary) that kindly said, no, but you keep trying. As a middle-aged woman, my needs have changed. Maybe it’s my nephew is about to graduate from high school that is reminding me, or the hot weather is on it’s way or that I still remain friends with my fellow ditchers. For whatever reason, I want to hop in my car and go ditch. I mean I go out to meet my friends today and beep the horn and wait for them to sneak out of their office building and we can go get a Big Gulp and candy and other things. Maybe it’s time to pen a letter again to a much more accepting President Obama. I wonder if he ever ditched?

Lucky me, I had a friend in high school who worked in the school’s main office and he would get a hold of the hall pass pad and fill it out and come get me out of class. Usually it was during typing class, which he knew, I loathed. I simply could not do those typing drills. I was perfectionist that couldn’t bare making mistakes and either letting them happen or gumming them up with liquid paper! So, as my teacher would come by, I would stop because I hated being watched during these drills. I was ready to get out of class any way I could. It was like a scene from some John Hughes film. We lived the Breakfast Club. And thank goodness computer typing is so much more forgiving—my typing teacher would be proud of my wpm now! See ditching didn’t hurt me in the long run.

And I am not advocating getting loaded or being a juvenile delinquent either, just good old fun. Okay, you can get that Margarita or whatever. So break out of your mid-life crisis and call a few friends. Make a flyer of where to meet. Just don’t do too much planning, as this is clearly a grup (negative slang for grownup) way of doing things. It has to be in the moment. It has to be good clean fun and just feel that freedom coursing through your veins! To me, that’s more the freedom that’s worth fighting for. Find a spot in the city or town you live in that is a lookout area and head straight for it with your friend. Stay there for a bit and angst over the malaise of your middle years and marvel at the view.

And people, please don’t put it down in your e-calendar, just steal away and tell me what happened. I realize I am advocating a form of financial anarchy, but maybe it would be good for our nation’s general psyche. Grab the keys and a handful of change and IM a good friend and let’s go ditch! I won’t tell. Post your bragging rights of your day down below. Live a little.

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