Browsing Archives for February, 2008
It's a bit of a strange concept, leap year. Strange, but enormously convenient. This quadannual correction serves as a reminder that our global calendar isn't quite as orderly as we'd like to believe.
Think about it for a moment. If we were to eliminate leap year for just one century, we'd throw off our calendrical alignment with the earth's revolutions around the sun. By skipping 24 days over 100 years, our notion of seasons would be behind by nearly a month. Opt out of leaping for a mere 500 years, and suddenly dreary February weather would assume the pleasantness of May.
On a long enough timeline, the familiar relationship between months and seasons would become irrelevant as summer months became winter and vice versa.
The United Kingdom and parts of the U.S. were well on their way to such seasonal limbo until 1752, when the Gregorian calendar was adopted to replace the Julian. This seemingly innocuous transition required that everyone involved simply agree to skip 11 days. So in 1752, Wednesday, September 2 was followed immediately by Thursday, September 14, much to the delight of thousands of husbands who would have otherwise forgotten anniversaries.
So next time you're not thrilled about an extra day in February, consider the chaotic alternatives. Instead, graciously embrace your extra day and take solace in this: lovely March begins tomorrow.
It happened suddenly. At least I think it did. Regardless of how we got here, we’re here. Men are now expected to attend baby showers.
This extraordinary fact has been confirmed by several reliable sources including my sister, sisters-in-law, female friends, and, yes, male friends. These people have presented me with photographic evidence of men attending and even enjoying themselves at such events. All this inquiry was necessary because of a baby shower invitation that arrived in the mailbox the other day. I was gobsmacked by the sight of my name, before my wife's no less, clearly printed on the pastel-blue envelope.
I have nieces and nephews and friends with rugrats of their own, so I've shopped for plenty of baby gifts; I've just never presented them at baby showers. Because it looks like I'm in the market for yet another baby gift, I'm pleased to have a plethora of NetShops stores to assist me. With BabyGift.com, eRockingHorses.com, DiaperBags.com, JustStrollers.com, Cribs.com, and more at my fingertips, finding the perfect gift should be easy.
The hard part will be figuring out how to behave at the event. Friends have regaled me with stories of bottle-chugging relays, diaper-changing races, and stroller Olympics as a gesture of reassurance. All well and good; there just better be plenty of cake and sandwiches.
I read an article the other day about a professor who, as his retirement approached, slowly built a small, rustic lodge in his backyard. The detail that made this a story is that he managed to complete the project while keeping it secret from his wife, who slept not more than a few dozen feet away.
Of course she knew he was building something, but he maintained that it was a storage shed rather than the completely furnished retreat it eventually became. This fellow was probably in a bit of hot water with his better half over the ordeal (as I may be for admitting this), but I completely understand why he did it.
He was soon to leave behind his office at the university. This was where he completed the bulk of his life's work. By creating a new space, he could still enjoy in retirement a sanctuary complete with his teeming bookcases and favorite recliner.
The need for privacy in our lives is often readily dismissed as frivolous and seldom accepted as priority. Yet it’s one of the reasons I recently finished a home office. Now I have a haven where I can write, read, or just plop into a bean bag and think. My wife uses it for the same reasons, so while it's not exactly my own, it serves its purpose.
I wouldn't mind having my own little lodge out back someday, though I highly doubt I’d keep it secret from my wife. Really, there's no way I'd be able to pick out rugs and window treatments without her.
Today is my dad's birthday. He's not exactly old, but this is the first time he's expressed dismay at the approaching anniversary. To observations that his birthday was coming up he was quick to shout out defensively, "Not yet!"
Over the past several years he's made fun of mistakenly getting the senior citizen discount at movies, restaurants, and the zoo. Now that he legitimately qualifies, I can understand why he finds the savings somewhat less amusing.
As a lark I thought I'd check out SeniorShops.com instead of GiftsForHim.com to find his present. I was surprised by what I found. There were loads of legitimate gift ideas that he'd genuinely appreciate. In the Games and Exercise section I found large-print cards that would be perfect for our cribbage games. There were resistance bands he could use to strengthen the shoulder he injured two years ago in a sledding mishap. (He's been back on the sled several times since. When he says, "Not yet!" to old age, he's not kidding.)
It wasn't long before I stopped browsing for him and began to consider how these products might improve my life. Who wouldn't want this stuff? Maybe I'm old at heart, but things like light-up slippers, robes, and massagers sound like my cup of Earl Grey.
To a lot of people around here, the 60-mile ribbon of I-80 between Omaha and Lincoln is a well-traveled one. For me and many others, this same band of concrete has been commute to work, college homecoming, and hopeful football pilgrimage, just to name a few. It's a highway teeming with the stories of those who travel it.
I drove it last night, just after sunset, with my older brother in the passenger seat. The sky was still ablaze with brilliant colors, illuminating the forsaken windmills, weathervanes, and decrepit barns that dot the remarkably undulating landscape. It is a gorgeous stretch of road. Over the shorn winter fields that flank the highway, Canada geese shuffled in and out of their Vs.
My brother pointed out one of these wedges as its members broke formation and alighted just off the shoulder in front of us. We sat in a sort of quiet reverence, as if words might shatter the delicacy of the moment. I thought about the nature lovers - the birders, photographers, and hunters for whom I so often describe products, and I grasped their passion.
I would love to have stopped to savor the sight. But daylight was fast fading and the rushing traffic would have overwhelmed the idyll. Plus, we were on our way to watch our youngest brother coach a basketball game.
We finished the drive safely, indulged in some exquisite pizza, and watched our brother see his team to a victory. It was by all accounts a pleasant evening. But I'm certain the clearest picture in my mental photo album will be the indelible image of northbound geese, stopping to catch their breath on the long trip home.
For 50 minutes tomorrow night, the moon will be in totality. That is the portion of Wednesday night's 3.5-hour lunar eclipse during which the moon will be entirely engulfed in Earth's shadow. To pull off this celestial stunt, the Earth must line up directly between the sun and moon, thereby casting its shadow and eclipsing the lunar globe. As this happens, expect the moon to change to a light gray color, followed by a deep orange or red shade, before it regains its familiar luminosity. Whether this is a harbinger of things to come, I'll leave to the observer.
If you happen to be in the East Coast or Midwest regions of the U.S., you'll have the opportunity to view the eclipse from start to finish. The partial eclipse will begin at 7:43 p.m. Central Time, with the totality beginning at 9:01 p.m. Our friends out West won't have to stay up as late, but they'll miss the beginning of the eclipse on account of a later moonrise.
So set your clocks and grab your telescopes and binoculars. Even your trusty peepers will provide a stunning view. Prep the coffee, don your gloves, and pull up a chair. Above all, hope for clear skies. This isn't quite a once-in-a-blue-moon occurrence, but almost. You won't get another chance to see heavenly action like this for nearly two years - when it comes around again in December, 2010.
How would I manage the unrelenting cold of winter without the diversion of table tennis? I try to squeeze in a game or two every week, but there are diehards around the office who grab their paddles for a daily fix. I don't blame them. When the wind howls and the flurries fly, a rejuvenating walk around our office courtyard seems beyond reason.
Even when I get waxed in a free lesson at the hand of a superior player, table tennis is invigorating. For every embarrassing whiff at well-placed ball, I seem to muster an unlikely shot that surprises me as much as it does my opponent. Those are the sweet moments that keep me coming back. For that brief instance, I feel like a master of the physical world, as though Newton's laws are at the mercy of my veto power. The humbling sting of the ball when I absorb the full force of an opponent's slam with my face invariably brings me down to earth, but still. It is supremely satisfying, as dozens of my colleagues can attest.
Working at NetShops has helped me appreciate the wealth of indoor fun available to cheat the chill of winter and beat the heat of summer. The thrilling competition and casual fun of air hockey, foosball, darts, and other rec room games are a definite cure for cabin fever. And having a few of these games tables around the office seems to be a surefire remedy for office malaise as well.