Lost in the headlines of the crisis was the death of the weekend, who passed away on March 14 at the age of maybe as much as 112. Who can say?
It is popularly believed that the weekend was created in New England at a cotton mill in 1908 as a concession to some workers who worshiped on Sundays and some who worshiped on Saturdays. However, the research of this smart guy—a professor!—indicates that coming out of WWI, the workweek was commonly six eight-hour days, which means that the sole non-work day was also the day of worship and hence mostly spent at church, doing church things. Even in its one-day nascency, the weekend delivered far less than it promised.
So let’s just split the difference and say that the weekend was like 100 years old or so.
Derided by some as an arbitrary designation of an arbitrary standard of time passing, the weekend was quite popular in 20th-Century America as a period of enforced leisure and errand-running, supporting entire industries, such as motion pictures, and golf.
However, the weekend grew into more of an idea and less a practice, as some sectors of labor existed solely to offer the promise of the weekend to those lucky enough to squander it in the brunch line at Sweet Chick or the checkout line at Home Depot.
The weekend passed away peacefully, under quarantine, after suffering prolonged complications from the gig economy. It died as it lived: taken for granted.