As Labor Day floats our way—dragging behind its annual Last Days of Summer Rituals, let’s pause in reverence for what we’re about to lose: It’s the final days to suck-up to boat guys and watch them suck in their guts. Oh, the last boat rides, promising I’ll never drinktequila again (until Memorial Day). One more fire-up of the Barbie for hot dogs, those mysterious meat tubes we swear we hate yet inhale them like Wagyu sliders. And of course, the ceremonial retiring of “White Pants,” unless you’re bold enough to utter the sacred incantation: “Winter Whites.”
It’s time once again to raise your Red Solo Cup in salute to Labor Day.
Naturally, there’s Big Boat Guy already staging his off-season flex. He’s planning trips South—because heaven forbid, he is trapped in actual “Winter.” He’s got the mirrored sunglasses, the designer shirt his Ex bought him, and the unnecessarily massive Titanic-size fenders. All of which is screaming louder than his insecurities, they’re compensating for. We tie up our little dinghies beside him anyway, proud of our modest rides, quietly convinced our “Fenders” Can go the distance. (You read that right.)
And then there’s the water itself—Lake Norman, the same murky mystery pea soup we were told not to swim in back in May when officials released a “concerning bacteria algae warning.” Fast-forward to Labor Day, and here we are, floating around with pool noodles like it’s a spa treatment that no one talks about, that questionable shade of green, or the occasional “is that a fish or a flip-flop?” sighting. By this point, we’ve accepted the risk—if we glow in the dark by Halloween, at least we’ll have saved on costumes.
At The Dock
Labor Day becomes a floating confessional. People whisper things like, “Do you think the ducks remember me from Memorial Day?” As we’re tossing leftover chips, laughing at the fact we name them after Movie Stars or “I didn’t technically pee in the lake… but it was warm over there.” Soooo I’d wait a minute.
Let the record show on The Docks, they don’t mourn summer’s end – they treat it like a last fling. Sliding into the season in winter white pants, questionable tan lines, and keeping an open-door policy for friends with good snacks and better cocktails. Staying away from bad ideas and avoiding the “Walk of Shame.” They welcome each season with a new spirit and a positive attitude.
Summer may be waving goodbye, but the stories aren’t done with us yet. Sure, the lake will trade bikinis for hoodies and margaritas for pumpkin spice, but let’s be honest—our cast of characters doesn’t pack up that easily. Big Boat Guy will still be flexing, the ducks will still be freeloading, and someone will still lose their phone, keys, and their clarity between The Docks.
So yes, summer may be officially ending, but don’t think for a second the stories dry up with the lake level. I’ll still be here every Friday morning—One Paddle Short, fueled by one strong cup of coffee—ready to row us straight into fall with satire sharp enough to keep you laughing, and just enough love to keep you afloat. Seasons change, but the lake—and this column—always has a few more stories left to tell.”
Monica Lucia is the Author of The Final Chapter and a passionate advocate for those navigating grief and loss. She is the Founder of Widow’s Den and Sisterhood of LKN, dedicated to supporting families In addition to her writing and community-building work, Monica is the Grief and Bereavement Counselor at Raymer-Kepner Funeral Home, Huntersville and Denver.
