A ‘Store Easter Day’: that would be a rabbit out of the hat!
Easter must be the least beloved of all national holidays.
When, why, WTF?
There may be chocolate eggs for the kids, but otherwise there are no real gifts, no fun costumes, and no specific dates. Shops are closed (or somehow open but not for long…we’re not sure).
All of the events are inconsistent and could involve bunnies or eggs or both, but again… no one is sure.
And when is it? Let me ask Google again, because the system for determining this ever-changing vacation problem can only be understood by astrophysicists.
Holy shit, that’s a lot
For British parents, this is especially not fun. The Easter school holidays in the UK last at least two weeks. Yes, two weeks. Fourteen full days at home… with your children. This amounts to torture.
In Denmark, the school holiday period is a little more humane: one week. The problem of isolation and rainy days persists, but there is worse: extra holidays. Because it’s not just Påske that’s the problem here.
In Denmark, there are a total of nine distinct national holidays that revolve around Easter. Nine whole days: that’s more days than all the other holidays combined. This torrent of random holiday rugs weaves its way through the springtime portion of each calendar, inevitably landing unevenly and awkwardly to ensure you have a bizarre and aggravating streak of weeks.
Let the public decide!
The only reason most of us have been brainwashed into appreciating Påske as meaningful is because of free time. With the holidays, that would no longer make sense. I propose to keep the holidays, but to remove Easter from the calendar as an unwanted lice.
Holidays should be maintained but distributed at times when everyone can enjoy them. Much like feriepenge, these nine days of real relaxation should be delivered to citizens when they feel best via eBoks. We decide when we want to be away and with whom.
Those glorious free days shouldn’t be splashed through chilly March and not much warmer April without thinking about how meaningless anyone’s life will be with wild-eyed kids and an empty fridge.
Christian V knew it centuries ago
Store Bededag is a good example of the absurdity surrounding the Danish Påske. Apparently, in 1686, King Christian V was so pissed off with the number of small days of prayer that he pulled everyone out of their misery and merged them.
If only he had gone a little further, Christian could have squeezed the other eight holidays of closed supermarkets and distressed parents into one manageable holiday and given a fixed date.
There is hope for our contemporary situation, because popular opinion can be realized and politics can change. Quickly and efficiently, we can organize popular events in Denmark’s ten largest cities.
“Give os vores liv tilbage!” they will sing! People can start showing up for work and school regardless of the insane Palmesøndag or Kristi Himmelfartsdag, demanding to live a normal life no matter who wants to pretend that Skærtorsdag is a legitimate thing.
And maybe the government will listen, take a leaf out of King Christian V’s book, and mop up those old bombshells into something akin to a real vacation. A real vacation where supermarkets are open and flight prices are not exorbitant.