As it does each year, THRASH ushered in our season. This year, with a fun twist we stole from friends on the East Coast: a ritual Burning of Socks! Why, you ask? Read on…
“Ode to the Sock Burners”
Adapted Sock Burning Poem from Jefferson Holland, Poet Laureate of Eastport, 1995
Them NSC Sailors got an odd tradition
When the sun sinks to its Equinox position.
They build a little fire down along the docks,
They doff their shoes, and they burn their winter socks.
Yes, they burn their socks after the Equinox.
You might think that’s peculiar, but I think it’s not.
See, they’re the same socks they put on last fall,
And never took ‘em off to wash ‘em, not at all…
So, they burn their socks after the Equinox
In a little ol’ fire burning nice and hot.
Some think incineration is the only solution,
‘Cause washin’ ‘em contributes to Lac Deschênes pollution.
Through the spring and the summer and into the fall,
They go around not wearin’ any socks at all,
Just stinky bare feet stuck in old deck shoes,
Whether out on the water or sippin’ brews.
So if you sail into the Harbor after the long month of March,
And you smell Limburger sautéed with laundry starch,
You’ll know you’re downwind of the NSC docks,
Where they’re burning their socks in honor of Equinox.
