The Cult of Good Day
If you wonder why the Upper Valley Girl column, which appears monthly within this web-log, always ends with “Good day,” here’s why:
When I lived in SoHo, New York City near the Angelika Film Center, my 2 wedded friends and I would rent or go to the movies with regularity. The husband named us Club Cine. Club Cine freqently adjusted its own consciousness via an alterant, say, a shot of Jack.
I hardly remember those movies. But i do remember the beginning of Ed Wood, which takes place when people wore hats other than baseball hats, and would tip them as they greeted each other with a courtly “Good day.” In the beginning of the film, people just kept saying “Good day.” Due to the alterant, perhaps, we found this intolerably funny, and noted that in other languages people still say, literally, “Good day!”—so why not us? We vowed to spread it. Thus began the Cult of Good Day.
I have since faithfully recruited cult members. You can say “Good Day” in a cheery way or in a dour or ominous way or, as they mostly did in Ed Wood, with a kind of elegant politeness conferring respect upon your greetee, even if you don’t have a hat to tip. That’s the way we do it.
It is my hope that Club Cine, now married to other people, will stumble on this Web page. If so: Good day.
Thank your explaining this. I should have guessed that the origin of your catch phrase had a good story behind it.
I believe I once had that same nickname!
Better than “Have a good day,” at any rate. My mother, aged 85 at the time, used to say, sotto voce, “I’ll have any kind of day I damn well please,” so incensed was she. I do that myself on occasion, in her memory.
I have a similar reaction to Good Morning, and I don’t know why that is. And good for you for carrying it forward.