The Happiest Day of My Year

I almost missed Shakespeare Day this year.  When I heard the news, I immediately sent a curse-filled rant to my closest Shakespeare friend, one Bardfilm by name, because I knew he would understand.  Again, Bardfilm, I apologize for using so many F-words on Easter Sunday. 🙂

Here’s what I realized, when I almost lost my day.  Today might very well be the happiest day of the year for me.  I’m not counting anniversaries and children’s birthdays and such, those are happy on a whole different level.  But they are small.  How many people will celebrate my son’s birthday with me?  His friends, sure, and his parents, and various grandparents and cousins. But still, we’re talking about a couple of dozen people?  Who are there for my son.  It’s not really my day. I’m happy for *him*, but that’s not what I’m talking about.

Shakespeare Day is the one day of the year when I feel a kindred spirit with literally thousands (millions?) of like-minded people all around the world. It is a day where I can tell, hear and repeat Shakespeare jokes with people who actually get them. No, not who just get them – anybody with a high school English education can “get” them. I’m talking about all you good folks out there who, like me, are made fundamentally happier because we get to do this. And we get to do this all day long.

My wife doesn’t fully get my Shakespeare addiction, but she tries. She’s learned over the years that on April 23, my thoughts are in another place. When I am not writing about Shakespeare I’ll want to be reading about him, and when I’m doing neither I’ll be thinking about him. She tries, and my kids try (my daughter suggested that I “paint my face and shave my head like Shakespeare”), but they know that these things work at a much bigger and deeper level than that.

Most of today’s posts, including this one, have been written ahead of time and scheduled, because I will be wrapped up with the day job responsibilities. But I’ll be with you in spirit!  Thanks for sharing the day with me over the years. There’s nothing else quite like it.

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