Calendar contortions
This is February 29, a date that doesn't exist except in leap year, every four years. Today my parents are celebrating the 15th anniversary of their engagement which will be followed in a few months by the 60th anniversary of their marriage. (Preceded a short bit by the 59th birthday of their first child, me.) It is traditionally the one day when the woman can take the initiative in a romantic relationship, a stricture now seen as ridiculous, but it gave rise to the 'Sadie Hawkins Day' dances all over.
Every one hundred years there is actually a February 30, at least that was what I always understood. I was seriously disappointed to find out that I was going to live through a century year yet not see that double leap day because it only applies three out of every four hundred years and we didn't have a lucky one. It turned out that if the first two digits of the century year (20) are divisible by four, you skip Century Day. Our sun cycle is tricky, who thought that up? Well, we know Who, but why wasn't the solar year created to be exact--maybe it's just to keep us on our toes. It means we have to define all these permutations to try and make our calendar come out exactly right over time. Do you know what the Jews had to go through with their lunar calendar? They had to throw in an occasional leap month to keep the schedules outlined in the Law of Moses on track, and it was one of the tasks of the Sanhedrin to announce the start of each new month by when the first visible sliver of moon actually appeared. Contrary to what I remember, the lunar month is not 28 days, but 29 1/2, thus making it necessary to alternate 29 and 30 day months; then it still doesn't match the solar year, so the need arises to toss in an extra from time to time. Or else the prescribed planting day has ended up in the middle of winter, and the High Holy Days are in all the wrong seasons.
It means that if you were born on February 30, 1900, and lived to be a hundred years old, you still wouldn't get an actual birthday ever, in your whole life. You were robbed. There will of course be a February 30 in the year 2100, but I'm pretty sure I won't be around to see it. So, this fourth-year bit is as much quirk as we get. Gilbert and Sullivan certainly put it to good use in The Pirates of Penzance, with the poor apprentice pirate whose contract specified his 21st birthday, leaving him bound until he was 84. Find it on video with Kevin Kline and Linda Rondstat and have fun with that today, or you ladies, grab your best fellow and propose. Ignore the fact that this is the reason it's election year, turn off the noise for one day, and go have a lark. What better excuse do you need?
Every one hundred years there is actually a February 30, at least that was what I always understood. I was seriously disappointed to find out that I was going to live through a century year yet not see that double leap day because it only applies three out of every four hundred years and we didn't have a lucky one. It turned out that if the first two digits of the century year (20) are divisible by four, you skip Century Day. Our sun cycle is tricky, who thought that up? Well, we know Who, but why wasn't the solar year created to be exact--maybe it's just to keep us on our toes. It means we have to define all these permutations to try and make our calendar come out exactly right over time. Do you know what the Jews had to go through with their lunar calendar? They had to throw in an occasional leap month to keep the schedules outlined in the Law of Moses on track, and it was one of the tasks of the Sanhedrin to announce the start of each new month by when the first visible sliver of moon actually appeared. Contrary to what I remember, the lunar month is not 28 days, but 29 1/2, thus making it necessary to alternate 29 and 30 day months; then it still doesn't match the solar year, so the need arises to toss in an extra from time to time. Or else the prescribed planting day has ended up in the middle of winter, and the High Holy Days are in all the wrong seasons.
It means that if you were born on February 30, 1900, and lived to be a hundred years old, you still wouldn't get an actual birthday ever, in your whole life. You were robbed. There will of course be a February 30 in the year 2100, but I'm pretty sure I won't be around to see it. So, this fourth-year bit is as much quirk as we get. Gilbert and Sullivan certainly put it to good use in The Pirates of Penzance, with the poor apprentice pirate whose contract specified his 21st birthday, leaving him bound until he was 84. Find it on video with Kevin Kline and Linda Rondstat and have fun with that today, or you ladies, grab your best fellow and propose. Ignore the fact that this is the reason it's election year, turn off the noise for one day, and go have a lark. What better excuse do you need?
I can't think of a better reason to ignore election year! However, for some time now I have had a dispute with this 'birthday every four years' business. Correct me if I'm wrong. As I understand it, we have a birthday every time the the earth makes one rotation around the sun. Yes? So how we figure the dates seems irrelevant. If the earth has gone around the sun 4 times, one is 4 years older, regardless of the day of the month.
ReplyDeleteOf course if you really want to get confusing, I believe it is the Japanese who say a newborn is one year old at birth. Oh, well, gives us something to argue - think - discuss.
Don, obviously you are four years older, but you do not have a birhtDATE, we'll term it that way, except every four years. That leaves you with the not fully satisfactory choice of picking February 28 (still in the right month) or March 1 (it would be the next/right day). But you get to make great jokes forever!
ReplyDeleteOne of my colleagues, who is both my classroom neighbor and department head, had his 14th "birthday" today. I let my IB kids go and sing to him. (He's also their TOK teacher.) :P He threatened to return the favor on my birthday.
ReplyDelete