Vampires don’t attend backyard barbeques. They like a blood-red steak just like the next guy. Sure, they find the garlic mashed potatoes repulsive and opt instead for a plate of beets. Food isn’t the reason they don’t drop by carrying a salad. Backyard bbqs take place in the daylight which is when vampires get their sleep on.
Vampires aren’t the only ones that won’t be making the Labor Day barbeque today. Medjool dates are ready for picking this week (traditional harvest is the first week of September) and the local farm workers in the Coachella valley will be out harvesting. Those of us in retail will be working this weekend. Highway patrol and police officers may be busier than normal working round to clock to secure the community so that those that can’t handle their own personal celebrations don’t ruin ours. It’ll be tough to make your party but we may drop by when we get off work.
Like the vampire our eyes are blood red. We don’t sleep eight hours and we don’t sleep in on weekends. Ours is the 3 am shift, the midnight shift or the long weekend. Like the vampire’s reflection we’re invisible to most everybody. Still we are there lurking behind the scenes.
So I sing a song to those that rise up from bed in the darkness; to those who celebrate lunch as the sun rises. Revel in the mystery of the store shelves stacked to fullness; of the full storehouse at the fast food restaurant (a curtsy to the couriers and truck drivers). Tonight while we sleep they rise in the darkness. Yet whilst the vampire’s life is made full by the blood of his victims these invisible workers give us of their own blood and sleep.
Wait! There’s the moon! The casket opens, the blood flows, another day begins.
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