F it Dude, let's go bowling

The anticipation of Memorial Day Weekend awakens in me the excitement of a child before Christmas. A few nights before the big weekend I am sleepless at 3:30 AM thinking about the wonder before us. Memorial Day Weekend at our house is all about The Big Lebowski.

What holiday could possibly be better than Memorial Day to celebrate all things Big Lebowski? With its rainbow of fragile pacifists and conscientious objectors and f-ing veterans, and rich politicians who likely never served, The Big Lebowski reminds us of the politics behind war and the characters who play their parts in America's history of lines in the sand. Push us, even mistakenly, and the aggression will not stand. Pacifists become soldiers. Or, better, they just go bowling.

We've been having our annual Lebowski weekend for more years than we care to count.  The more times we watch, the more we notice all of the "ins and outs" and the strands in the old Duder's head. The rug isn't the only thing that ties the room together. The Big Lebowski is a perfect movie. Although as the Stranger once asked, "Do you have to use so many cuss words?" It is nearly impossible to quote from the flick without injecting a swear word here or there. 

As we do every year, we welcomed summer with a Lebowski viewing, a homemade Minnesota version of In-N-Out Burgers (this year topped with sauteed mushrooms and onions, and white and Wisconsin cheddars), and a tumbler or two of Caucasians. Summer calls and the Dude abides.