the first labor day (redux)

listen back to a highlight episode from season 1: sept 5th, 1882.

weary from a labor-intensive labor day, kirk compares this past holiday weekend with america's first-ever labor day. with an eclectic soundtrack and many an old-timey accent, this episode is sure to offer a reflective lens to anyone who listens with an open mind. check the spotify playlist below for all of today's music, including the banger anthem, "when i first put my uniform on".

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official spotify playlist for e55: 'september 5th, 1882'

patreon link for a talk in the attic

Transcript

What’s up everybody?
It’s Tuesday, September 8, two-thousand-and-twenty.
This is A TALK IN THE ATTIC. I’m your host, Kirk Ross.

Coming at you from my home studio in midtown Grand Rapids, MICHIGAN.
I hope y’all are coming off a nice holiday weekend.
Of course I’m referring to Labor Day, the American holiday that provides
working folk with a Monday free and clear from their demanding work.
Labor Day is a day set aside to recognize the American worker for their
endless toiling at the behest of the ruling class, who on this particular Labor
Day, took to the rivers and lakes of this great nation to proudly remind
every person interested in getting across a drawbridge that
“Nuh uh. Not today. For on this Labor Day – Labor Day 2020 – the
drawbridges shall remain open, as a new type of parade proceeds on its
god-given path.”
“Laborers! Make way! For the greatest display of sycophantic boot-looking
in American History!”
That’s right, I’m talking about the Trump Boat Parades that scattered into
fruition in yacht clubs across nationwide.

What better way to celebrate the forgotten hero – the American Laborer –
than by jumping in your super-expensive toy that you never use, filling it
with TRUMP 2020 flags, and slowly disrupting the day of millions of folks
trying to get across various bridges.
And what better symbol of hard work and tattered remains of relentless toil
than Donald J. Trump, born to a near-peasant real estate mogul with barely
enough trust fund to eventually buy and almost immediately bankrupt a
casino.
I mean give the guy a break, casino’s are hard to make money at.

Old President Bone Spurs himself, whose only experience in manual labor
has been at groundbreaking ceremonies for building projects that were
subcontracted out to thousands of actual laborers, many of whom were
never paid by The Trump Organization.
If you don’t believe me, go check the court records in Manhattan and
surrounding counties.

What a perfect symbol for pulling yourself up by your bootstraps – errrr,
wingtip…laces? – than DJT.
Of course it wouldn’t be right, would it, if but a few vessels didn’t meet their
soggy demise during these parades.
In a year filled with so many difficult challenges and so much heartbreak,
did we really need anything more to shake our faith in humanity?
So many emotions, all bubbling up enough as it is. Then I have check out
the news only to find these poor souls, quickly gathering their belongings
as they flag-saturated ships capsized into oblivion?

Just when I thought there would be no good news this Labor Day. Voila.
Thanks, Universe, for finally making something positive happen this year.

Of course, I’m joking. Nobody deserves to have their boat sink, even if
they’ve tied their entire identity into worshipping a man who couldn’t care
less about the little guy.
And by the little guy, I mean any loser worth less than 1 billion. So all of
you, I think.
That said, if any of you listening are in that billionaire range, then go check
out my Patreon page. I was only joking about Trump, unless you’re sick of
him too, in which case, F that guy, right?
Maybe some of you non billionaires – aka LOSERS – would be interested
in signing up to be a patron to the show at Patreon.com SLASH A TALK
IN THE ATTIC. Where in addition to supporting the show, you’ll have

access to exclusive content, merch, and a chance to hone the trajectory of
this very project. Check it out.
I would say no pressure, but come on, that wouldn’t be authentic, would it?
Soooo…a little pressure. But nothing beyond that.

Let’s stick with this Labor Day theme for the body of today’s episode, if you
don’t mind.
But we can’t get into the body without first starting the thing. So,

…LET’S START THE SHOW!’

COAL MINE

That was “Workin’ in the Coal Mine” by Lee Dorsey. How awesome and
innocent and catchy is that tune?
Of course that song and all the rest of the music you’ll hear today is listed
in the Spotify playlist that’s linked in the show notes.

Lee Dorsey dropped that hit in the summer of 1966, making it one of the
best years ever for pop songs about coal mines.

An alternative song I considered using for the intro is Sam Cooke’s
WORKING ON A CHAIN GANG:
CHAIN GANG

This one is even a little bit older, dropping 6 years earlier in 1960. If Sam
Cooke took issue with mass incarceration back in 1960, I can’t image what
he’d say now, 60 years later.
But for today’s discussion, we’ll have to go back a lot more than 60 years.

Let’s go way back, and I mean way back, to a time when we were being led
by President… Chester Arthur?
Who the F is Chester Arthur?
For real, I looked up who the president was in 1882, the time period our
show will focus on today, and when Google returned Chester Arthur as the
answer, I thought for a moment that maybe – JUST MAYBE – I had
accidentally typed in “Who Was NOT president in 1882?” because I know
nothing of this dude.
And for a moment, this lack of knowledge on POTUS #22 almost derailed
us into a full episode on Chester Arthur.
But I couldn’t do that to you folks! Can’t follow up last week’s episode on
wood with an even less appealing topic: Chester Arthur.
This show has to be more fun than that!

Which brings us to our actual topic today: The First Labor Day.
Not exactly a topic that rings of comedy, I know, but that’s only because
y’all don’t know what happened that very First Labor Day…
…back on September 5 th , 1882.

The venue was New York City.
Manhattan, to be exact, where outside City Hall, a growing crowd of
laborers filled the streets and sidewalks in anticipation for a speech or a
decree or who knows. Really, these workers weren’t used to having a
Monday off, so what else is there to do but go hang out in front of City Hall.
Essentially, the loitering had begun to watch the rumored Labor Day
parade.
The exact origin of who and how a bunch of powerless low-wage workers
were able to get a seemingly random end-of-summer Monday off is a little
fuzzy, but most sources attribute Peter J. Maguire, then-leader of the

American Labor Federation, as the man who spearheaded the day of
recognition, which was to serve as “a general holiday for the laboring
classes.”

But this was 1882, folks, so mass communication and organization was a
far cry from the tools available to us today.
If I wanted to organize a parade in this day and age, I could simply take to
Facebook and calmly ask the question:
who’s down for a parade?

In 1882, I would have had to hone my skills as a carnival barker and take to
a busy street corner and with a bull horn and exclaim:
WHO, PRAY TELL, IS DOWN FOR A PARADE?
LET ME REPHRASE, SINCE NONE OF YOU PASSERSBY SEEMS TO
UNDERSTAND THIS COUNTERINTUITIVE VERNACULAR, “DOWN
FOR”.

WHO, PRAY TELL, IS UP FOR A PARADE? Anybody?
BARNABY? REGINALD? COME ON GUYS, I CAN SEE YOU, FELLAS.
GENTS! STOP IGNORING ME!

Needless to say, it was tough to get the word out back then. Which makes
it all the more impressive that nearly an estimated 25,000 marchers
ultimately turned out.

Around 9AM, as the Manhattan gathering continued to grow around City
Hall, Police began to show up on horseback with , for fear that RIOTS
might start up.
SOUND FAMILIAR, FOLKS?

Instead of tear gas and military-style weaponry, though, these cops were
toting helmets and clubs.
Who wants to bet that cops with wooden clubs were a little less likely to
escalate a mass gathering into a riotous affair than modern police forces?

With the parade start time set for 10am, but with very few organized
marchers in position, The Grand Marshall of the Parade – William McCabe
began hearing rumblings from the crowd that maybe the parade wasn’t in
the cards.
That once again, the unsung American worker’s hopes for a day of
empowerment was not quite ready for its day in the sun.
But McCabe persisted. His police escort was already in place, as were the
few dozen marchers brave enough to show their faces in public in support
of a labor revolution.

WORKING MEN AND ROUSTABOUTS, WE MUST MARCH! he likely
insisted.

But there was a problem. There was no band!
You can’t have a parade without a band – everyone knows that!

A parade without a band is just a bunch of dudes walking down the street,
you know?
McCabe and his marchers were facing the grim reality, once again, that this
parade wasn’t meant to be.

MR. MCCABE! MR. MCCABE! LOOK WESTWARD, SIR!
Running across the lawn, frantic and excited, was Matthew Maguire,
unrelated to the similarly named and aforementioned Peter Maguire...lots of
maguires back then, I guess.

MR. MCABE! MR. MCCABE! Sorry, I’m out of breath. I haven’t been
doing my aerobic cardiovascular calisthenics of late.

GET ON WITH IT, McCabe might have shouted.
YES, RIGHT. WE HAVE A SOLUTION TO THE NO-BAND
CONNUNDRUM. YOU SEE, THE JEWELERS UNION OF NEWARK #2 IS
CROSSING THE FERRY NOW.

OH BOY! PLEASE DIVULGE WHAT I EXPECT YOU TO DIVULGE.

THEY’VE GOT A BAND, SIR. A REAL BAND. WITH

INSTRUMENTS AND EVERTHING.

MAGUIRE! You magnificent bastard! I KNEW WE COULD PULL
IT OFF. NOW WHERE IS THIS BAND!?

THEY’RE COMING AROUND THE CORNER NOW. LISTEN!

Sure as you’re hearing me today, the Jewelers Union of Newark #2
marched from the riverbanks as their musical sounds slowly echoed their
way to City Hall.

The crowd grew restless and excited as they suddenly realized that this
day of dashed hopes for working-class revolution was once again back on.
Faith restored!
I’LL BE HOG WOLLERED!
The Jeweler’s Union marched forward, pumping out an all-time great song.
Who knows what song it was?

Anybody?
That’s right, #1 on the summer of 1882 BILLBOARD HOT 100 – which of
course isn’t a real thing – the banger anthem responsible for more
merriment that such hits as “Yankee Doodle” and “Keep That Negro Away
from My Wife”…
…that’s right, I’m talking about Gilbert & Sullivan’s hit jam, “When I First Put
My Uniform On”.
Folks, as soon as you hear this toe-tapper, you’re going to know exactly
why legions of suddenly emboldened workers followed the Jewlers of
Newark #2 into the streets.
Without further adieu: here’s “When I First Put My Uniform On”.

You know how people will often say “Wow, that really holds up, even
today.” When referring to old music?
Yea, that’s not the case here. I mean, don’t get me wrong, this song is
pretty solid. Pretty funny too. For its time.
My favorite line goes like this:
I DIDN’T ANTICIPATE THIS
WHEN I FIRST PUT MY UNIFORM ON

Ha-haaaaa: Classic lyrics.

Suddenly, hundreds and eventually thousands joined the march. Hopefully,
the band knew more tunes than just “When I First Put My Uniform On”, but
come on, it was 1882: there weren’t many other songs.
For nearly three hours, supporters of the labor movement marched through
New York City.

Their eventual landing spot was Reservoir Park, where one newspaper
described the scene as “..men on horseback, men wearing regalia, men
with society aprons, and men with flags, musical instruments, badges, and
all the other paraphernalia of a procession."
Regalia and paraphernalia of a procession? Damn, that sounds pretty fun.

Another source wrote that kegs of lager beer were mounted in every
conceivable place.
Beer kegs in every conceivable place? Are you thinking what I’m thinking?
Come on, laborers, relax a little and stop mounting these heavy kegs of
lager beer in every conceivable place.

The party raged late into the evening – 9pm – equivalent to 4am in today’s
world.
It’s reported that even non-supporters of the movement came to the park to
partake in the fun.
HMMM, SEE ANOTHER PARALLEL HERE?

The party ended. The workers had their day in the sun. And then the next
day, they returned to the same factories that were home to dangerous
working conditions, long days, tyrannical management, and in many cases,
the last place many workers would see alive.

Conditions didn’t get that much better, at least not for a while.
But they persisted. And then their kids did too. And their kids. And our
grandparents. And our parents.
And now us.

We’re now carrying the torch for the issues of the day. Many of which are
rooted in the very same dichotomy that the very first labor day 138 years
ago was illuminating.
Distilled down its essence: it’s about fairness. And decency. And doing
what we can to ensure safety and happiness for ourselves and our families.

And just like the riot police with their wooden clubs at City Hall on the first
Labor Day, today’s cops are being tasked with showing up today’s ground
zeroes of change.
Most labor rights activists in those days showed up in Manhattan in 1882 in
peace, just as the impossibly lopsided majority of those fighting for change
today.
And just like the party animals who came uninvited to Reservoir Park for a
party they didn’t really believe in, a few hijackers are doing the same with
this movement.

But make no mistake, those bad apples didn’t spoil the bunch in 1882, nor
will they in 2020.

We’ve come so far as a nation, as a world, as the human species, since
our first Labor Day, haven’t we?

But the same could have been said looking back from 1882, too. They’d
come a long way too.
And that doesn’t mean they were perfect and it doesn’t mean they stopped
progressing.

I’m not sure what the exact lesson to be gleaned is here, but a few
thoughts come to mind.

First, know that even though it feels like the most absurd and unstable time
ever, it’s not. Our immediate and incessant access to the news has
changed, but the movement hasn’t.
Secondly, I’m reminded to make sure that I evaluate my own actions and
my place on the issues from not just a current-day lens but from a future
backward-looking perspective. Kind of a tricky concept, but it makes sense
to ask ourselves, regularly: how will history look back upon us? Are we on
the right side of it?
Each of us stand in different places on all of these issues. And I am
absolutely not saying I’m right on ‘em all, nor do I even know where I stand
on some of them. There’s so damn many to keep track of these days.
But they’re all important. They’re all being battled over. And they’re all
going to settle in a better place tomorrow as they rest today.
Even if it seems slow. Even if it seems like we take steps backward.
In the end, I truly believe that progress is the inevitable outcome. Not to
each of us personally – none of us is guaranteed that – but to the nation
and the world and the universe as a whole.
Kind of optimistic in a way, isn’t?
And my final take away for the day: The 22 nd president of the united states
was Arthur Chester. Learn something every day. I have two first names
myself, Mr. President, damned glad to meet you.
Take it away, Jewelers Union of Newark #2!
UNIOFRM ON

For real, though, that’s the show today. Here’s Coast Modern with “Guru”.
Peace out, y’all.
WORKING CLASS HERO