My father, 93, is quick to laugh. He has always tended to keep things on the sunny side.
So as he navigated the pain of parenting a willful, wayward teenager (me), his optimistic perspective came through.
One recurring word of advice: “Quit yer belly-achin’.”
This colloquialism has stood me in good stead as a transplant to New England. It was especially helpful in November, a time of year New Englanders complain bitterly about. For good reason:
With the departure of Daylight Saving Time, November is suddenly depressingly dark.
The glorious fall foliage has not only vanished, it now demands to be raked.
Whatever remnant of mild late-summer temps were holding on, they’re losing the battle.
So everyone complains about November.
Well, not everyone. There are 15.4 million people in New England, and 15,399,982 of them complain about November.
(Connecticut has half as many complainers as Massachusetts, but this is only because Connecticut has half as many residents as Massachusetts.)
November complaint saturation in New England is practically universal. It’s everyone except me and 17 other people.
Even though I’m naturally a complainer, when I gear up to complain about anything, I hear my father’s voice in my head: “Quit yer belly-achin’.”
At which point, I look for some way to pretend that the complaint-worthy situation is actually dandy. Ducky. Hunky-dory.
As complaint-targets go, November is an easy mark. There are at least three reasons to feel good about November. You can post these on your fridge door and refer to them next year, for a far more pleasurable autumn:
1. Election Day happens early in the month, and then it’s over. Hurrah!
Yes, I know, elections pollute the November calendar practically every year. We have to vote for a president in November every four years — the whole House of Reps and a third of the Senate every two — plus there are all those annoying state races.
And even the in-between years are besmirched by referendums, local races, and special elections to replace quitters and dead people.
But look! Election Day is designated as the Tuesday after the first Monday in November — so it’s never later than the 8th of the month.
This means we endure the cacophony of campaigning for about a week at the absolute most. After that — finally, a blessed lull.
The last 22-plus days of November are the one time of the year when political operatives crank the spigot closed, shut off the bilge, scoop up what’s left of your donations, and take their families to Bermuda.
Cause for rejoicing.
2. November 11 is Veterans Day.
This is the opposite of Memorial Day, when we honor our war dead. Veterans Day celebrates the ones who got out alive. This is a good thing!
My father served with the Air Force in the South Pacific, part of an airplane-repair group during the Korean War. But he never saw combat, and he was glad of that, and so am I, because here I am.
3. November is Thanksgiving month — the holiday falls on the fourth Thursday, as early as the 22nd or as late as the 28th.
I realize Thanksgiving may not be everyone’s cup of nog. You may despise turkey. You may dislike your relatives. You may have a moral objection to football.
But look at it this way: It’s a Thursday off work. How cool!
Even if you’re one of those unlucky goons who has to go back to work on Friday, chances are your boss will be in an L-tryptophan-induced stupor and won’t notice that you are too.
For many of us, the fourth weekend of November is the longest time-off stretch of the year. Four days in a row.
What’s not to love?
What other month guarantees you four days off in a row?
But now, November’s over. Take deep breaths.
It’s not widely known, but December is derived from de, meaning “to reverse” … cem, the old Thalric term for “stomach” … and ber, from the ancient Graevian term meaning “to bear pain.”
See? De Cem Ber.
It’s December. Quit yer belly-achin’.
Go ahead, belly-ache to Ipswich resident Doug Brendel at Outsidah.com.