Reviewed: Labor Day

As a kid, Labor Day meant getting dragged along with my family to Argyle State Park, where my dad looked at junk for sale (oh, I mean, antiques) and all the old dudes in Osh Kosh B’Gosh overalls lined up their gas engines restored from the old days and laughed when little kids walked by crying (me) because of the noise.

Since then it’s been a whole lot of “ugh, I hate Mondays so much I’d rather just be at school/work suffering through it.” Some years there are barbeque's where people eat hamburgers that might or might not have mad cow. Sometimes I just watch TV. In Illinois, people come together and sell a bunch of junk, and everyone else drives around looking at it. There aren’t even fireworks.

6 Stars.