After Christmas let-down
2023 feels a lot like 2022.
The plastic trees are being carefully zipped into plastic bags to put into closets for another year, wrapping paper is in the garbage, and lines will be forming to return the presents nobody wanted.
Never did like killing trees every year. I’m good with plastic trees. We had a plastic Christmas tree when I was young, but we were too busy playing with the Lionel train underneath the tree to care.
That lasted until we were teenagers and mom made us put away the ornamants, lights, and trees. We soon learned that one string of lights and a few ornaments were all we needed. Mom was too busy painting Christmas scenes on the front picture window to care.
As the arbitrary line for the new year passes, I’m wondering why we continue to have a 12 month calendar when it is so much easier to use a 13 month calendar.
Every day of the month would fall on exactly the same date every day of every year, with filler-days at the winter solstace when needed. If you were born on a Monday, your birthday would always be on the same date.
It might be confusing at first…if you were born in July, and the new month was between June and July (I’ll call it “Estuary”)…Hmmm…everyone born after January 28 would have to change their birthdates, too.
My birthday would be the first week of Estuary. I could live with that.
After a few years, when everyone had a birthday on the same day of the week…
Except for the people born after December 28. When would they celebrate their birthday?
It would be like being born in Limbo.
“When were you born?”
“Limbo 1st of the new year. Or is it Limbo the 2nd to the last day of the old year…”
If your birthday was always on a Saturday and mine was always on a Monday, that would SUCK!
Now I understand why mom made my sister and me put away the tree. Christmas is only wonderful when someone else has the sucky jobs.
Christmas was a lot better when I didn’t have to wrap the packages, watch my toddlers play with the box while ignoring the expensive gift inside it, and put away the tree.
The chances of being born on February 29th in a leap year are 1 in 1461. They wouldn’t care, as long as they didn’t have to celebrate their birthday on March 1 for 3 years.
Around 4.1 million people might have been born on February 29th, but I’d feel three times worse about the people who would have been born on December 29, 30, and 31.
Why worry about what will never happen. We voted to get rid of daylight slaving’s time two years ago. If we can’t get rid of that stinking albatross tied to our necks, who would dare try to change the Gregorian calendar?