The Leap Year Blues

It's February out there. Oh yes, it's February.

How do I know? Because my normally sweet-natured, cooperative, mellow almost-three-year-old daughter had her official, week long, winter-cabin-fever "I'm not going to sleep, eat and be nuclear grumpy every moment" freak out.

And it was about Wednesday of the freakout while driving down the highway with crying tot in tow, that I remembered: "Oh yeah, it's February isn't it."

One of my favorite writers avoids the state of Pennsylvania at all costs because every time he crosses its borders something mysteriously always breaks down. (Cars, relationships, physical health) He will drive extra hours around the state just to save himself the trouble that will surely find him there.

I feel the same way about February, but I have not, as yet, found a way to avoid a whole month of the year. (I do however have one fond memory that takes place in this month, and that was when I first laid eyes on my beautiful wife, but knowing what month it was, I waited till March to ask her out)

There is an old saying (okay, I made it up and have been saying it for a while) that all the evidence that you need to believe in a merciful, loving God is in the fact that He made February with only twenty-eight days. (Actually, it was not the Lord, but those shiftless Gregorians who designed our current calendar)

And then, I hear that every four years they want to add another day to this most wretched of all months.

This is a bad idea.

If there is somehow (it must be magic) an extra day floating around out there why on earth would we give it to February? It's like entrusting those thousand dollars you were saving for a vacation to your gambling addicted roommate. It's akin to saying "you know what, I don't think that World War II thing was near long enough, why don't we tack on an extra year, make it go through '46" or "that national deficit isn't nearly big enough, let's put a couple of zeros onto that baby, really make some history here!"

And if there is some "magic" way to add a day to the calendar, then could those same folks somehow make the American Idol TV show disappear, professional baseball last all year and give me back all the hair that I've lost?

Actually, let's just do away with the month of February once and for all.

Here is what I suggest.

Let's divide up those twenty-eight days like this: We'll start by giving the other eleven months each one more day just for virtue of not being the month of February.

That leaves us with seventeen days.

Next, let's give June, July, and August each four more days, because come on, who would be against a longer summer?

Then let us reward October (my favorite month on account of all that foliage, and my birthday) with three more days and then let's randomly select oh, say April, to have two more days.

There it is; a nice even, well thought out plan to phase out February.

Oh, and that extra day every four years?

Put it anywhere you want...

The Skull Of St. Valentine (And Other Greeting Card Suggestions)

Some say that Valentine's Day is nothing but a corporate holiday, designed by the greeting card companies and the chocolate folks. Some say it's designed to fill that dreaded "holiday gap" between New Year's Day and St. Patrick's Day. Many call it "Single Person's Awareness Day" and dress all in black and celebrate by burning old love letters on the front lawn.

But whatever you may feel about it, it's here today and you must choose how you will celebrate it or if you will at all.

I think, at a minimum, we should be required to give a card to 13 other people like we were forced to in elementary school. The government (it can be local government for all you small-government folks out there) should issue each citizen a list of 13 other folks, with names correctly spelled, of whom you are required to write a Valentine's card to. It can be one of those generic ones that come 20 to a box, and you must, at a minimum, write the person's name on it and perhaps an "xoxoxoxo" if you are feeling inspired.

Imagine what it would be like for every person in the country (we can expand the program internationally next year; let's start small here folks) opened up their mailbox and got a Valentine's card on the appointed day. It wouldn't matter if it had a Transformer or Captain America on it (I draw the line with the ones that kids can get that feature Pro Wrestlers - a person has got to have standards) or Strawberry Shortcake or My Little Pony, because the excitement of getting a card or a piece of candy would be worth it. If it worked in third grade, why can't it work today?

There are lots of other things that we should do to follow the elementary school model in life, like naptime, drinking milk out of those cartons that are impossible for a seven-year-old to open (we could wipe out Osteoporosis in our lifetime!) and taking field trips. But I digress.

According to some exhaustive and in-depth research, done just now on Wikipedia, Saint Valentine might have been one of about six people who were martyred in early Church history (kind of puts a crimp in the old "day of love" thing). And perhaps the best fact that I found was that the skull of Saint Valentine himself is on display in a church in Rome. They should really make a greeting card out of that picture. It's also interesting to note that, in the Eastern Orthodox Church, this holiday is celebrated on July 6. This would throw a hitch in the old Fourth of July weekend celebrations here in this country.

But it does not take a saint to convince the world that it's good to have a day to celebrate love in all of its many forms. Though we default to thinking of romantic love during this time, with all the pressure to buy flowers and gifts and underwear, love is all around us in ways that are far more practical and real than the romantic ideal we are presented with by the good folks on Madison Avenue.

Lest I be too preachy here, I enjoy romantic love as much as the next guy. My wife, Special Sauce Caldwell (so named because she makes everything just a little bit better) and I enjoyed (and continue to enjoy) a courtship in which I pitched woo with the best of them. I wrote poetry and songs, I drew pictures and took her on picnics and went all out in pursuit of her hand in marriage. It's surprising what you are capable of when there is worthy goal in site. We still enjoy these things.

But "love" is so much more. To treat love as a gushy thing that we only celebrate once a year is like eating a hot dog with only one topping. Romantic love is great, but the kind of love you feel for your friends is wonderful, too. So send that good friend a note or a gift. (Guys, I'm looking at you here too.)

Parental love is worth celebrating, too. When my daughter, Princess Genius, was two-years-old, she ran across an open lawn space towards traffic (she never did this before or after, but for some reason she chose this moment to try and pick some flowers near the road) before anyone could react quickly enough and I had to cover 50 yards in just a couple of seconds. As I ran towards her and the cars, I realized that I would jump out in front of one if that's what it took to keep her safe. Thankfully, I caught her at the one-yard line by an ankle. Again, I'd love to see the greeting card that said, "I love you so much that I would jump out in front of a car for you!"

So, if you have a parent (and I know you do), make sure to send them a note or give them a phone call. They most likely saved your hyde a number of times, and a card or call is a great celebration of love.

So expand your horizon. Love is all around you. Give a stranger a Valentine today and see how you make someone's day. Call a friend, hug a co-worker (make sure to get permission first), buy flowers for Mom and hug your daughters and your sons and see love as more than a sentiment.

And then, feel free to celebrate your expanded horizons by eating a whole box of chocolates.

Happy Valentine's Day,

- Tin Can Caldwell