By chance, I noticed that today is February 29. I supposed that this is special. I cannot get excited. It’s just another day (but it does provide a topic, which I cannot repeat for a few years).
Then again, I supposed that it might be special for anyone needing to fill in some form with that date. It means that he or she can celebrate a birthday once every four years, or four times at once. That’s a whole bunch of presents and a load of cake (present good; too much cake not so good).
What can others do to make this day special? Nothing. No company had thought up a way to make money, so most ignore it.
Should I feel grateful to have an “extra” day? No. It’s not extra; it’s just another day, made special by a calendar notation. It’s mathematics, which controls everything in the universe in which we exist. Life is one long thread, from beginning to end, so one more or less day in February will not make a difference.
Prior to writing novels, the author enjoyed a multifaceted career: from decorated combat aviator to advertising professional to global communications director of a major consumer brand. He has traveled the world and met sports, film and television stars, political leaders, and royalty. He graduated from Middlebury College, is married, lives in Germany, and has two grown children.