THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Wednesday, February 22, 1995 TAG: 9502220042
SECTION: DAILY BREAK PAGE: E5 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: LAWRENCE MADDRY
LENGTH: Medium: 68 lines
THE WAKE ME When February Is Over Society held its annual meeting Tuesday evening at Wally's Tavern.
Archie McNutt, the club president, ordered a round of beer for everyone, and we all pulled up chairs around a table in the back of the tavern.
When Archie called the roll of members, all answered ``here.'' That wasn't surprising, because the meeting is mandatory. Anyone not attending the annual meeting is ousted from the club. Unless the member happens to be home taking a nap - which is OK because we feel that's the only way to get through the month.
The WMWFIO Society was organized three years ago. We meet in Wally's Tavern not because of the beer - which is ordinary - but for the juke box. It's an old Wurlitzer from the 1940s that has colored glass tubes with little bubbles that rise up in them.
We like to sit at one of the old tables and stare at the bubbles rising in the illuminated glass tubes. Our members feel that those bubbles rising in the tubes symbolize February. A certain lethargy seems to take hold of a person during the month. It's like the bloated feeling caused by eating too much pizza.
The eyes glaze over and tiny gas bubbles rise in the stomach, just like the one in the jukebox tubes.
After the second round of Red Dog, Archie reported that, as usual, our effort to drop February from the calendar was getting nowhere.
``It's the damned florists and candy companies fighting us tooth and nail because Valentine's Day is in February,'' he complained.
Society members believe that because St. Valentine was Irish, it would be logical to combine Valentine's Day with St. Patrick's Day and celebrate both in March. Instead of giving boxes of candy shaped like red hearts, lovers could exchange boxes with Kelly green hearts on them instead.
Then we could just do away with February, leapfrogging right from January into March.
February is supposed to be the shortest month in the year - 28 days - but always seems longer . . . much longer. It's like watching a boring foreign film in an art theater that has wooden seats and a scratchy sound track.
Most of our society's work involves yearlong scientific research. The results of the investigations are put into papers that are read during the annual meeting.
Some of the papers read at this year's meeting were very interesting. Some of their titles were:
``A Look at Potholes - Why Do More Appear in February Than in Any Other Month? And Why Do They Divide and Multiply After Midnight?''
``The Drip Syndrome. Why Do Cars, Faucets, Sinuses and the Sky Leak More in February Than Any Other Month? And Is There a Connection?''
Is February More Boring Than C-Span, and If So, Why?''
``If Reggie Jackson Was Mr. October, Is Sen. Strom Thurmond Mr. February?''
``February and Any Bill Clinton Speech - A Comparative Anal-ysis.''
``The Great Leap Year Hoax, in Which Five Extra Days Are Added to the Month Every Four Years Instead of the One We Are Said to Be Getting.''
I enjoyed just about every one of the papers except Charleton Chestnut's 15-page explanation of a game he has invented to capitalize on the dust balls that accumulate more rapidly in February than any other month. What Charleton does is paint a shuffleboard design with numbered squares under his bed. He uses a long handled windshield ice scraper to move the dust balls around.
Sounded boring to me, maybe because the paper took forever to read. It was simply too long, I thought. But in February, everything seems that way. by CNB