Visit Australia and you’ll hear those welcoming words everywhere. “G’day mate,” is the familiar down-under version of our “How is it going?” heard stateside a couple of billion times a day. Did you ever take into account the deep underlying meaning of what it is to “have a good day?”

Oh sure, your first thought is that few if any people on God’s green earth really mean it when they tell you to “have a good day.” It is merely a pleasantry, such as “take care,” “my thoughts are with you,”  “it’s great to see you,” or “If there’s anything I can do,” phrases that are tossed around without much effort or thought as we proceed along on semi-automatic pilot. 

Well, with Thanksgiving weekend here; I got a bit introspective and starting focusing on the essence of “a good day.” And where did this self-analysis take place? Not at the Thanksgiving table, or some religious sanctuary or meditative retreat. It all began at the local gas station, of course.

For most of us, the act of pumping fuel into a starving tank is mindless activity. We pull into the nearest station, unscrew the cap, swipe the credit card, begin pumping and our minds wander listlessly into a zero-thought zone. If we focus on anything it might be where the nearest Dunkin Donuts or Starbuck’s is for a trip down the caffeine highway. However, the other day, spurned by the ever-climbing price of gasoline staring me right in the face, I began to soul search. And as the gallons flowed and the price climbed from twenty to thirty to forty dollars (with no where to go from there but up) I became convinced that in order to enjoy a truly good day, I would need to escape the clutches of the big oil companies and OPEC purchasing a full tank of gas for under the fifty dollar cap.  Fifty smackers to fill the gas tank is such an unsettling number. The inner voice reminded me that like DiMaggio’s 56-game hitting streak, the fifty-dollar mark is sacred and should never be broached. So as the pump price crept closer and closer, the prospects of a good day dimmed. The gauge soared to $49.77 before the automatic release clicked and the pumping stopped. How close I came to crossing the Mendoza Line (Notice the baseball allusions – it’s where my idle mind often travels).

I tapped off to an achingly close $49.85 and called it quits, satisfied that I had somehow beaten the system and would drive away from the gas island a winner. But as regular casino gamblers know, the house never loses. Filling up the very same chariot with equal parts gas a year ago cost me $38.00 and at the time I thought the only way to “outfox the man” was to come just under the forty-dollar mark. So, scoring under fifty dollars and feeling pretty content with myself, I screwed the cap on and pushed my way out into traffic. I thought I had settled for a textbook “good day” following my successful duel with the high-octane nozzle. 

Funny, how thoughts come and go and sometimes one tiny one can force us into a welcome u-turn. I dialed up my radio station for the latest news at the top of the hour. And it struck me that my idea of a good day, while satisfying in a silly way, was very much out of proportion. On the WBZ newscast, I heard stories about the soldier making it home to be with his family on Thanksgiving, a bystander rescuing a child from a burning building, a retiring educator winning teacher-of-the year honors. It got me to thinking that my “good day”- saving a few nickels at the pump- might be better defined as light distraction. What I was settling for was a silly little moment that although satisfying, didn’t live up to the measure of a really good day. It didn’t compare to the joy, relief and pride felt by the folks who were the stars of those news stories. 

Soon I got to thinking about all of the people I know that are sick, laid up or alone during holiday time. Or those who spend day and night by their child’s bedside as doctors search for a miracle. For them a good day might just mean a return to the humdrum routine that so many take for granted.

It’s all about perspective in the pursuit of a good day. It’s a good day when a terrorist pulls the pin and the suicide vest doesn’t explode. It’s a good day when a parent watches a child receive a third-place academic award; the same kid that no one thought would ever pass a class. It’s a good day when a couple celebrates 1 or 10 or 50 years together. Or when two people meet for the very first time and each knows something special is brewing.

It’s a good day when an alcoholic achieves sobriety, when a friend from high school calls for no other reason than to say she missed you, when a long dying, polluted stream is finally restored to life. It’s a good day when astronauts risk everything for science and progress and return safely to earth. It’s a good day when you see a policeman on the beat, firefighters sitting out in front of their station ready to roll, or an EMT crew doing what they do saving lives. It’s a good day when you can take twenty minutes to sit outside with a sandwich and watch kids play on the swings. It is a good day when a stray dog or cat from a shelter is adopted into a loving home. It is a good day when you’re free to see any movie, watch any television program, read any newspaper, vote for any candidate, or march for any cause. And it’s an exceptionally good day when you discover that just by being here on this tiny planet, you’ve made a difference, even if it’s just a small one.

Good days come in all shapes and sizes and seem to be popping up everywhere now that I’m paying attention.

I will try hard to put a little more meaning into the words when I tell folks to have a good day. Allow me to start right here and now with you dear reader. There are more ways to do so than you might think, so go ahead and have that good day. You deserve it.