As an erstwhile English major, it pains me a bit to say I am not a huge fan of James Joyce. I tried and tried to read Ulysses (and all I remember, through doing crosswords, is its first line with stately plump Buck Mulligan at the beginning, and then its last word), plodded through "Portrait of an Artist as a Young Man" and found it forgettable except for "pull out his eyes, apologise" and Parnell being dead. I must have read some of "Dubliners" but I don't remember any of it.
However, I love the idea of Bloomsday, marked by lots of drinking and an all-day public reading of "Ulysses." If you have this big huge book that no one understands, why not read it out loud at people once a year?
In this vein, but with much more love, I offer you good wishes for a Happy McCallsday, or perhaps I should call it Convoymas. You know the song, the one that starts out, "Was the dark of the moon on the sixth of June..."
Yes, yes! You know! Sing along!
"...in a Kenworth pullin' logs. Had a cab-over Pete with a reefer on, and a Jimmy haulin' hogs."
Yes! Convoy! My parents had a couple of C.W. McCall albums as I was growing up, and when I was five or six I loved them. When you're three, you realize that the world is big and you are small, and it's kind of a pain to learn. But by the time you are five, you see that the world is big but you're pretty big too. The sky is big and the prairie is big and colors are so bright they fill you up until you can feel them, and semi trucks on the Interstate are huge and a little scary and when there's a song with a driving beat and soaring strings that goes "...so we crashed the gate doin' 98, I sez 'let them truckers roll, 10-4,' " it's so awesome and big and glad it almost makes you cry.
That is how much I love "Convoy" — and, indeed, many other C.W. McCall songs. Let the celebration begin.