Edition #61: Have You Heard of Biggie Smalls Day?
Plus, bring back the nervous breakdown, how to set a giving resolution, and the perfect age
A Note From the Editor
The day falls in March. Lucky, because nothing very exciting happens that month. Some years it falls on a Saturday and other years on a Wednesday, but always on March 5th. People actually prefer when it falls on a Wednesday, breaking up the work week and giving them a reason to take a day off. I heard some of the bigger companies are going to start considering it an official holiday because their offices are so empty that day anyway. Oh, right, you just moved here, I’ll catch you up. It’s not weird you haven’t heard of it before, it’s only a New York thing. Mostly celebrated downtown and in certain neighborhoods in Brooklyn, but it’s started to catch on uptown, too.
Biggie Smalls Day, no direct relation to the late Christopher Wallace, was named for its intent: to celebrate the small things we typically ignore in a big way. To everyone else everywhere else it’s just another Wednesday or just another Saturday in March, but for us, it’s one of the best days of the year. A real bright spot in spring, far better than Easter. What would I compare it to? Hard to say, but you’ll see for yourself soon. I’d say it leaves you with the same flavor of elation as a distinctly exquisite birthday party.
The afternoon picnic is the day’s main event, the one with the most pomp and circumstance. Guest lists for the picnics are coordinated weeks in advance because there should only be about ten people at any given picnic. I know you don’t have plans yet since you just moved here, but don’t worry, you can come with me. I’ve been going with the same group for years, you’ll love them. You can wear whatever you want, but people like to get a little dressed up. Sundresses and sandals, if the winter weather has broken by then, or brightly colored sweaters and ribbons in hair when it is still too cold for bare shoulders. I know New Yorkers are said to wear all black all the time, but on Biggie Smalls Day, nobody does. Bright colors are the name of the game.
Everybody brings a few different dishes and no one coordinates, so there’s probably going to be some overlap. There usually is, but don’t sweat it. Just bring whatever food or drink you think is most underrated. I usually bring almond croissants and orange wine, Nut Thins and Baba ghanoush. One year, six of our ten people brought deviled eggs. I had no idea so many people thoughts deviled eggs were underrated! We had a blind taste test and everybody was terribly gassy afterward, but it was still great fun.
No need to bring your own blanket, my friend does the whole setup and it looks gorgeous. She has cushions for us to sit on, fresh-cut flowers, the whole nine yards. She takes it a little overboard but we all appreciate it. Meet me at the park around noon, that’s when we get started. The meal is to be enjoyed slowly, lots of double-dipping and taste this, taste that, a proper misfit feast. Make sure you talk to everyone as you eat. They’ll be so excited to meet you. Ask them questions, be sure to pay attention to the way their eyes move, the way they make you feel — you’ll want to be decently acquainted with everybody for the next part. When the food is mostly done, we all write our names down on a slip of paper and drop them into a hat. Everyone draws a name — don’t worry if you get your own, you can just pick another — and then we go around the circle and say our favorite, most underrated thing about the person whose name we drew. This is the main event of the picnic and it’s taken pretty seriously, so no thoughtless throwaway answers. Some groups only do this once, but we usually do it two or three times, giving everybody the chance to really appreciate one another. What do people say? Oh, all sorts of things. She always pauses before responding and it makes me feel like she’s really listening to me. He remembers everything I recommend to him — books, movies— and always reports back on what he thought of the recommendation after reading or watching. Don’t worry that you don’t know everyone super well. You’ll be surprised at how easy it is to pick out the good parts of people, even if you just met them.
The last part of the day isn’t official at all. It only started a couple of years ago. Get enough people together in a park, add food and wine and the warm feelings that surge when you hear others say nice things about you and you get the latter half of Biggie Smalls Day: the dancing. Somebody, somewhere, starts playing music plugged into a loudspeaker. Then somebody gets up — or maybe they’re already up, throwing out trash from their picnic — and starts to dance. When the dancing starts it’s like a fire, the way it catches and spreads. One minute everybody’s cleaning up and the next they’re on their feet, dancing to different music blasting out of different speakers. One year someone set up a DJ booth. Another year there was a twelve-piece brass band.
The dancing really opens things up. People break from their groups and wander around, people take the hands of one another, let themselves be twirled and dipped. It sort of feels like a big, daytime prom for grown-ups and kids and teenagers alike. The dancing lasts for a while, sometimes a few hours, but you’ll know the day is coming to a close when “Big Poppa” starts to play. Everybody will sing-scream the words, even the old ladies. Trust me, it’s as inevitable as white people playing “Sweet Caroline” at the end of a wedding.
The song signifies the closing of another successful Biggie Smalls Day. It’s usually all over by the time the sun goes down. When you get home, if you remember, you should take a moment to think about your most favorite underrated thing about that day, maybe write it down. It’s all you’ll see on social media the next morning, long captions about how this year’s celebration was the best year yet
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Cheers, my dears, and thanks for reading. This invented holiday was inspired by a prompt from Rob Walker’s newsletter, The Art of Noticing. Fun fact, I grew up in a town where we had our own special holiday, Rodeo Day. We went to school on Presidents Day (Monday) and got off for Rodeo Day (Friday) instead. You’d see everybody you knew at the fair; it was a day of fried Oreos and dangerously assembled rides and denim cutoffs. I’d love to hear about your own made-up holidays or any small town holidays you’ve celebrated in the past.
Three Pieces of Content Worth Consuming
Bring Back the Nervous Breakdown. This was one of my favorite things I've read this year. Back in the last 18th century and early 19th century, nervous breakdowns were culturally acceptable, even embraced. A proclaimed mental breakdown didn't dignify that you were crazy or inept, only that modern life had worn you down and you need a minute. Some of the wealthiest, most famous Americans publicly claimed these sorts of breakdowns, from presidents to Rockefellers. Today, we very much need to bring back the nervous breakdown because we're probably all experiencing some version of it. The author of the piece suggests we might modernize TNBD to be more American and more acceptable, calling it something appropriately productive sounds, like a “Power Break” instead. Sign me up.
“You didn’t have to visit a psychiatrist or a psychologist to qualify for a nervous breakdown. You didn’t need a specific cause. You were allowed to step away from normalcy. The breakdown also signaled a temporary loss of functioning, like a car breaking down.”
A Daughter and Her Mother Reconnect Over Chinese Dumplings. I didn't mean to click on this intimate, five-minute video doc, but I'm so glad I did. It would be worth watching if only for the quality of the footage of a woman making dumplings from scratch — visually arresting, simple, more satisfying than any cooking show. But it is made sweeter by the conversation between the filmmaker and her mother about what it means to come home again. I've had a version of this conversation with my own mother, and like many, I've shared the same feelings of guilt the filmmaker shares with her mom: I haven't appreciated you enough, I don't think about home when I'm not here, I don’t understand why do you worry about me. Tender and worth a watch.
The Day My Voice Broke: What Injury Taught Me About the Power of Speech. One of my best friends is a speech pathologist and when I recently spent some time with her over the holidays, she commented on my recent physical ailment: deep, acidic belches. "You're going to mess up your vocal cords," she said. I sort of shrugged it off. After reading this piece, about a man who sings in a cover band without a proper warm-up, does irreversible damage to his vocal cords and denies the injury for so many years that the damage becomes irreversible, I am officially freaked out. A thought-provoking and insightful reflection on the ways we use our voice to express ourselves and the way our voice impacts every facet of our persona, from opportunities to romantic endeavors.
“It was robbing me of the natural variation in pitch and volume that people use to give color, animation, expression and personality to their utterances – what linguists call prosody, the melody of everyday speech.”
Perhaps You Should…
Create a Giving Resolution
March is a good time to check back in with your resolutions for the year, or to set new ones. The frantic start of the year has worn off and expectations have tampered, so I find this timing much more reasonable than Jan 1. I approached the process differently this year, by setting a Giving Resolution and committing to making giving back a regular part of my lifestyle. I wanted to encourage my loved ones to do it, too, so I create a postcard where they could write down their own Giving Resolution and stick it somewhere they would see daily. If you’d like a postcard of your own, submit your address here and I’ll mail you one (US only, please). But remember, you don’t need a postcard to set a Giving Resolution, you can do it with good old-fashioned pen and paper, too! It’s a fun exercise to do with a loved one, your children, etc.
**Bonus Content** (The Perfect Age Is….)
A recent survey wanted to determine what American’s consider the perfect age, asking “if you could stay the same age for the rest of your life — what would you choose?” Think about it for a second, choose your forever age, and then see the results. (Friendly reminder: this is just a silly survey. You’re perfectly youthful and you have years in front of you and years behind you and any age can be the perfect age).
A Quote From A Book You Should Read:
“She finds the fossil of a fish. She finds a big lump of quartz. She finds that hoping hurts worse than not hoping.”
-How Much of These Hills Is Gold by C. Pam Zhang
This newsletter is best served with a side of conversation, so drop your opinions, reflections, and thoughts in the comments below and let’s get to talking.
Or, share the most thought-provoking piece from today’s edition with someone you love, then call them up to discuss, debate, and percolate. As a wise woman once said, “Great minds discuss ideas.”
March 5th is actually already a holiday! Employee Appreciation Day! You are sponsored by Nut Thins! Can I get some boxes please? Happy to see that 30s are the best age. Something to look forward to :)