April 15th, 2022

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(photo: pxhere)

Easter has to be the least loved of all national holidays.

When, why, WTF?
There may be chocolate eggs for children but otherwise there are no real presents, no fun costumes and no clear dates. The shops are closed (or sort-of open but not for long … we are not sure).

All events are incoherent and could involve rabbits or eggs or both, but again … no-one is sure.

And, when is it? Let me ask Google again because the system to determine this ever-moving problem holiday can only be understood by astrophysicists.

Holy crap, that’s a lot
For British parents it is especially not fun. The Easter school holidays in the UK are at least two weeks long. Yes, two weeks. Fourteen full days of being home … with your children. That is tantamount to torture.

In Denmark the school holiday period is slightly more humane: one week. The problem of isolation and rainy days do persist, but there’s worse: additional holidays. Because it is not just Påske that’s the problem here.

In Denmark there are a total of nine separate national holidays that revolve around Easter. Nine whole days: that is more days than all the other national holidays combined. This torrent of random public holidays carpet-bomb their way through the spring portion of every calendar, inevitably landing unevenly and awkwardly to ensure you have a sequence of bizarre, aggravating weeks.

Let the public decide!
The only reason most of us have been brainwashed into appreciating Påske as meaningful is because of the time off. With the holidays, it would be meaningless. I propose we keep the holidays, but extract Easter from the calendar like an unwanted hair louse.

The holidays should be kept but distributed at times when everyone can appreciate them. Just like feriepenge, these nine days of actual relaxation should be delivered to the citizens when they feel best via eBoks. We decide when we want to be away and with whom.

These glorious free days should not be splattered across chilly March and not much warmer April without a thought for how anyone’s lives will make sense with wild-eyed children and an empty refrigerator.

Christian V knew it centuries ago
Store Bededag is a good example of the nonsense surrounding the Danish Påske. Apparently, in 1686, King Christian V was so pissed off with the number of small prayer days that he put everyone out of their misery and merged them.

If only he had gone a little further, Christian could have soaked up the other eight closed-supermarket-and-distressed-parent holidays into one single manageable holiday and given a fixed date.

There is hope for our contemporary situation, as popular opinion can be realised and policy can change. Quickly and efficiently, we can organise popular protests across the ten largest cities of Denmark.

“Give os vores liv tilbage!” they will chant! People can start turning up to work and school irrespective of the nonsensical Palmesøndag or Kristi Himmelfartsdag, demanding to live normal lives no matter who wants to pretend Skærtorsdag is a legitimate thing.

And maybe the government will listen, take a leaf out of King Christian V’s book and mop up these ancient bombshells into something that resembles a real holiday. A real holiday where supermarkets are open and flight prices are not horrific.