Februphobia

Still waiting on my honorary Mensa membership card to arrive in the mail, in recognition of my previous contributions to scientific knowledge. Maybe the fact that I have classified a new malady will get their membership department off their collective duffs. Most of us who live in the northern hemisphere have been aware of the affliction for the majority of our lives. And those of us who live in the northern and western hemisphere are the most acutely susceptible. It isn't as much a sickness as it is a general malaise that creeps into our bones as our bodies are trying to digest the last of the Super Bowl party guacamole dip. I'm referring of course to Februphobia--Fear of the Month of February. The lethargy accompanying the onset of Februphobia has overcome me so intensely this year that it has taken me a full quarter of the month to muster sufficient energy to write about it.

It is fairly obvious that this disease has been recognized for thousands of years. Furthermore, it is obvious that it is genetic. Why else would our calendar only grant 28 days to this month if it were not for the inborn desire to shorten the suffering associated with it?

As a public service, and in recognition that many of you may not fully understand what it is about February that you should fear/hate, I will forthwith posit on the vile month's demerits.

1. There is no real football played in February. "Aha!", you say. "The Super Bowl is played in February." That isn't real football. That's advertising run amok while two nervous football teams play at a level of competence not seen since the beginning of the exhibition season.

2. Duck season is over. I have now entered into the 10 month period of my life known as "Waiting for the next duck season." The last 2 or 3 months of this period find me in a near euphoric state as the weather cools and my eyes begin scanning the sky for signs of migration. The first month of this period plunges me into a depth of despair only fully understood by those of us who spend exorbitant amounts of money and drive ridiculous distances to stand in waist deep freezing water.

3. The season for speckled trout is closed in Florida. When my Number 1 son and I were discussing this fact the other day, he snidely remarked, "Like you catch any trout big enough to keep when the season is open." Immediately following the posting of this blog, I have an appointment with my lawyer to discuss changing my will.

4. Basketball. Nuff said.

5. Hockey. Ditto.

6. Valentines Day. I once remarked at a social gathering around this time of the year that my lovely bride and I didn't pay much attention to Valentines Day, because in our home "we treat every day like Valentines Day." Uproarious and near insane laughter ensued and I was beginning to think that I might have a future as a stand-up comic, until I noticed that my wife was the one doing all the laughing.

7. The weather. Now, I know that living in Florida does not give me the same right to complain about the weather as those of you living in the arctic reaches (anywhere north of Interstate 10) of our great land, but I reserve the right to grumble nonetheless. It is just so doggone inconvenient to have to wear long-sleeved shirts!

There is just one thing I like about February. Baseball season has not started yet, and it is too cold to actually have to watch paint dry.