Beware the Ides of March!

The Ides of March are defined roughly as the fifteenth day of the month of March. This is a Roman thing; the ancient Romans, having to work with Latin as a language, gave this name to that day, but due to excess bacchanalia they failed to give an Ides to April. This was left up to our Congress to give us one. The Ides of April also falls on the fifteenth of the month, but is known as “Tax Day”, which makes it much worse for us than the Ides of March.

Julius Caesar did not see it that way, however. On the way to the Forum to be crowned emperor he was warned to “beware the Ides of March”. He disregarded the warning. Upon arrival he was stabbed by three “friends“, and he cried out: “Et tu, Brute’”. Brutus was a friend, supposedly, but he feared that Caesar would not make a good emperor. He brooded over his deed. Nowadays he would go on *Fox News*, and write a book and get paid $50,000 for making a speech.

In Chattahoochee High School I was fated to take two years of Latin. We boys had to perform a scene from Shakespeare’s play “The Death of Caesar”. Shakespeare wrote in a strange semi-English, saying words like “doth”, “hither” and “forsooth“, which were difficult enough for good ole Southerners, but our teacher insisted that we recite the play in Latin. Latin puts the verb last in its sentences, which provides for some surprises. Our performance had many surprises. We were wrapped in sheets, and our mothers all attended and sat in the front row to make certain that we did not really stab Caesar. Or “stob” him, as we rednecks call it. Immediately behind them was a group of rowdy boys who heard that we were not going to wear anything under our “togas”. We wore short pants and tee shirts underneath, though, and this kept us from performing in the first “Animal House”. It also kept us from being expelled from high school, and possibly being drafted into the Army.

There are other exciting days in March. The first day of March is Labour Day in Wales. Notice the extra “u” in labor. This is a British peculiarity. They should stop using this in such words. Think of all the carbon added to the atmosphere by these extra letters being printed out. I figured the Brits for being more environmentally conscious.

The eighth day is celebrated, or at least observed, as “8 hours day” in Tasmania. Herein lies a mystery. Do the folks usually work seven hours or nine hours, and on this one day work eight hours? Of course this land is the home of the Tasmanian devil. The Tasmanian Devil, or Taz, is the most ferocious animal in Saturday morning cartoons, with the possible exception of Tom and Jerry and Tweetie Bird. There may be a connection there.

The fourteenth of March is when we begin observing Daylight Savings Time in most of the United States and in Canada. All of the Canadians that I have known did not really care about what day it is, much less whether or not it was 12:00 or still 11:00. Canada is not known as “The Land of the Bland” for nothing. Many of them put the extra “u” in words, and that should prove something about them.

Palm Sunday pops up late in the month. Again, the Roman emperors are to blame. Along about Constantine’s time there was a proliferation of religions, all demanding holidays. It got where there were days when there was no one to feed the lions at the Coliseum, and Christians were off the menu, so Constantine ordered the religions to get together with each other, double up on holidays and get back to work. Christians and Mithrans, for example, picked out a suitable day for Easter and Astarte’s birthday. It worked good until the calendar changed, and Palm Sunday had to tag along with the Vernal Equinox, which makes it a floating holiday. If you are not observant, it can be a complete surprise.

Passover comes along for the Jewish faith about the same time. You are all familiar with the story. The Angel of Death was to go through the streets of Egypt and slay all the boy babies in the houses that did not have a mark of lamb’s blood on the lintel. This is a beautiful tradition. Even today many Jewish fathers put a red smear of paint over the front door of their homes. And the mothers stand and watch and, with their heads cocked to one side, say “that is not quite the shade of red I had in mind”.

The most famous March day is the seventeenth, St. Patrick’s Day. The largest St Patrick’s Day Parade is in New York City, where there are more Irish than there are people. The second largest is in Savannah, Georgia. Savannians dye the river green, the beer green, the bagels green and, who knows, maybe each other the same color. The most famous current resident of Savannah is the Lady Chablis, a female impersonator, who became recognizable because of being written up in the book “Midnight in the Garden of Good and of Evil. The Lady Chablis played herself in Clint Eastwood’s movie of the same name, and appears in night clubs. She is also from Quincy, Florida, and has written an expose’ about that town. Now you know why I moved from Gadsden County to Sneads.

The shortest parade is in Enterprise, Alabama, where there is a statue to an insect in the town square. All directions start with “go down to the boll weevil and ____”. The parade is about three blocks long, and consists of one lady dressed as a leprechaun and passing out shamrocks. You really have to be quick to see that parade.

My own experience with St. Patrick’s Day occurred in Washington, D. C. I was with a group that went there to testify before a sub-committee of Congress on water issues. We made the mistake of going to an Irish pub that night, and I, with my tongue loosened by Bushmills, began regaling others with heroic exploits from my days at sea. I was called to one side by a rather shady character who explained that he had been listening, and that his organization could use me. I never did find out if he was CIA, IRA or a scout for a comedy club. The next year I insisted that we have Italian cuisine.

To close this (and it definitely needs closing) I would like to state that March has more than its share of problems. For example, we know that every fourth year is a Leap Year, when loose seconds and minutes are saved up to give February an extra day. My question is: where are these seconds, minutes and hours held until that year? Are they appended to March, and we just don’t realize it? Do they just float about until the magic year? Are actions that occur on Leap Year valid? My wife Theresa proposed to me on a Leap Year and I accepted. This last Leap Year two ladies proposed to me and I haven’t accepted either one yet. Are these proposals still valid, or should I wait till the next Leap Year to accept or reject them?

March has enough problems with St. Patrick’s Day and green beer, with Tasmanian devils and with the old poem “March winds doth blow, and we shall have snow”, not to mention Caesar’s stobbing. When I present a problem to my readers, I usually offer a solution. I am truly sorry that I cannot do it this time. March will just have to take care of itself.