September 1, 2002
When I was a kid, Labor Day weekend meant a huge cookout with lots of cousins and aunts and uncles in attendance. There would be lobsters and steamers and corn on the cob; my Dad and the uncles would gradually get drunk on Budweiser or Schlitz, my Mom and aunts shaking their heads in a disapproving knot; the older male cousins would organize a game of touch football, looking all hot and sexy, barechested and barefoot. I gravitated to my older sister and female cousins, with whom I felt most comfortable.
Now it's merely another long weekend, Party of One.