Brains are funny.  I don’t remember much about 2nd grade, but I remember one moment vividly.  For some reason my class was given an evaluation test.  Considering the average 7-year-old male brain is chiefly comprised of pudding and boogers, I’m not sure what they were evaluating.  

This test was the kind with questions that had no wrong answers.  When asked: “What’s your favorite day?” I wrote, “Friday.”  Apparently I found a way to give a wrong answer.  

The kid next to me said I was stupid.  He informed me that, “Saturday is the best day! There’s school on Friday.” I sadly erased my answer and scribbled “Saturday,” in a pathetic attempt to fit in.   It didn’t work, but don’t feel bad.  (Although, soon after that I got fat and was made fun of relentlessly for the next 10 years. Actually, go ahead and feel bad. Thanks!)

Thinking back, I understand why I answered “Friday,” but my 7-year-old pudding-booger brain didn’t have the wherewithal to explain that while I liked Saturdays, I appreciated the anticipation of the weekend more than the weekend itself.  (And thank God I didn’t say that because I wanted to beat the shit out of me just now while typing it. Starting right around “wherewithal.”)

It’s bizarre that of all the miraculous things the human brain can achieve, there is a tiny clump of cells in mine dedicated to keeping this memory alive — the day I was told my favorite day was wrong.

The days of the week clearly stir up feelings because they get a decent amount of attention in the pantheon of songwriting.  U2’s “Sunday Bloody Sunday,” Elton John’s “Saturday Night’s Alright for Fighting,” (Not IDEAL for it, but it’s “alright,”) and The Cure’s “Friday I’m in Love,” just to name a few.   Somebody should probably let Robert Smith know, Saturday is the best day to be in love and he’s stupid and wrong.  

Humans have also universally agreed that weekends are awesome, which is why Loverboy sang about how everybody’s working for them.  If you’re thinking, “But Loverboy, what of the poor people who work weekends?”  There is no specific answer to that in the song, but “tough titties,” is strongly implied.

Bands seem to be split over Mondays.  The Carpenters sang, “Rainy Days and Mondays Always Get Me Down.”  Although The Mamas and The Papas sang, “Monday, Monday, so good to me.”  Meanwhile The Bangles felt Mondays were more of a “manic” day. (Well, Prince did, he wrote “Manic Monday.” It’s entirely possible the Bangles thought Mondays were actually kinda chill, but they were just afraid to speak up to the li’l purple guy.)

I mention all this because a different clump of brain cells randomly fired off the other day — the ones responsible for remembering the song “I Don’t Like Mondays,” by Bob Geldof of the Boomtown Rats. 

On a side note, I feel compelled to point out that Bob Geldof is actually “Sir” Bob Geldof.  He was knighted in 1986 for his humanitarian efforts organizing Live Aid and Band Aid. Sir Elton John, Sir Iain McKellen and Sir Paul McCartney have also accepted knighthood, among many others.  I sincerely wish that if shit went down at Buckingham Palace, all these old dudes would be expected to suit up and protect the royal family.  I digress, but a confused Elton John squeezing into a suit of armor is fun to think about!

Anyway, back to “I Don’t Like Mondays.”  I was reminded that Garfield the cat also used to famously say, “I hate Mondays.”   I got to wondering if it was possible the song was inspired by Garfield. Or maybe Garfield ripped off the song?! Either way, what we have here is your basic Cat vs. Rat situation.  

I was surprised to discover the answer actually lies in a horrific real-life mass shooting.  (If this was a TV show, we’d totally go to commercial right now. If you want, pretend that it is, go take a pee-break, then come back and keep reading.)

Welcome back! (Next time try washing your hands.)  Okay, here’s the timeline: Garfield first said he hated Mondays on September 18th, 1978.  The Boomtown Rats didn’t release the song until July 23rd, 1979 – a full ten months later.  Although Bob Geldof penned the tune in January of 1979 — that was still a few months after Garfield first declared his hatred of the day!  The lasagna-eating fat-ass said it first! 

However, here’s where things take a dark turn: also, in January 1979, the first high-profile mass school-shooting took place in San Diego.  A 16-year-old girl who lived across the street from Grover Cleveland Elementary opened fire 36 times with a rifle at the schoolyard before giving herself up.  When she was later asked by a reporter why she did it, she replied, “I don’t like Mondays. This livens up the day.”   

This is what had motivated Bob Geldof to write the song, not the cartoon cat.  It really gives the lyrics a whole new perspective:

“The silicon chip inside her head / 
gets switched to overload / 
And nobody’s gonna go to school today / 
she’s gonna make them stay at home / 
…
I don’t like Mondays / 
(Tell me why) /
I don’t like Mondays / 
(Tell me why) / 
I don’t like Mondays / 
I wanna shoot the whole day down /
…
And all the playing’s stopped in the playground now /
She wants to play with the toys awhile / 
And school’s out early and soon we’ll be learning / 
And the lesson today is how to die”

Holy Moly. Eight elementary school students as well as a police officer were shot and injured;  the school principal and a custodian were killed trying to save children in the yard.   (Actually, I’m gonna go ahead and upgrade that holy moly to a holy guacamole, free of charge.)

The song isn’t saying “Tell me why I don’t like Mondays.” The reporter’s actual words to the shooter were, “Tell me why.”  “I don’t like Mondays,” was the chilling response.  

It’s a disorienting experience when you’ve heard a song so many times and then realize what it’s actually about.   And I don’t mean misheard lyrics like when my friend Don thought the Pete Townsend song, “Let My Love Open The Door,” was “Let Milo Open The Door.”  Which I must admit is a much more entertaining title.  (“I don’t know who this Milo is, but what a polite young man!”)  

The only question remaining is: could the shooter’s response have been inspired by Garfield?  He said it in print only a few months before the incident.  I couldn’t find any evidence to indicate they’re connected, but I suppose it’s possible.  The only thing I’m sure of is, literally half a century later I’m somehow still thinking about being told Fridays are a stupid day to like.  If I’ve learned anything from my journey with this song, it’s that life is fleeting and clearly I need to work on letting things go.  

And I will.  As soon as I’m done looking at the person on Facebook who called me a “fat horse” in tenth grade and enjoying how much better my life turned out than his.  

Ahh yeah, that’s nice.

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