When I was a kid, Labor Day was the end of summer, the transition into the new year, perhaps more important in a kid’s life (or at least more relevant) than New Year’s Day.

New cartoons on Saturday morning, new TV shows at night, a new school year, a new teacher, new friends, and old friends who looked new after a summer of growth.

The Labor Day weekend blast has lost its origins as a watered down, US version of May Day, a socialist-phobic version of the worker’s holiday. Now, it’s celebrated in American style with picnics, cookouts, and, typically, watermelon.

Plenty of watermelon.