Jahn: Well, an extra day IS an extra day

Eileen White Jahn of Rockville Centre chairs the business administration department at St. Joseph's College in Patchogue.

Leaping lizards, Wednesday's Leap Day. As if life isn't confusing enough, we have to figure out what to do with an extra day this month.

Dealing with the semiannual clock change is bad enough. The mnemonic device "spring forward, fall back" does me no good; when startled by a nasty arachnid (or a leaping lizard) I have been known to spring back, and when very tired I tend to fall forward.

One hour is bad enough; Leap Year throws us off by a whole day. And I still have to figure out which way to leap.

One of the many confusing things about Leap Day is the name itself. Just when you're getting ready to make the leap into the month that brings spring, you have to stop short, arms flailing, imprisoned in an extra day in the depths of winter. Perhaps we should call it "Wait to Take the Leap Day"?

In 45 B.C., Julius Caesar instituted a 365-day calendar to match the revolution of the Earth around the sun, so that seasonal celebrations would occur on the same calendar days each year. The Earth's revolution actually takes 365.25 days -- a discrepancy that adds up -- and Julius realized that something was seriously out of whack when the March 25th holiday celebrating spring was landing in the dead of winter. Apparently, the sight of naked pagans prancing in the snow was a little too much, even for that seasoned warrior. So he decreed that every four years we would throw in an extra day.

But why in the world would he pick February to stash it in? Who wants another day of the wet, cold gloom? Wouldn't a quadrennial June 31 be far more enjoyable?

February is the year's worst month. That's why they made it so short to begin with. President's week was invented just so we could get out of town for a good part of the month.

And then you have the confusion of the people who are born or married that day. When to celebrate? How to count the years? A 56-year-old woman I know insists that her age is the number of birthdays she has had. She's planning on having a blowout Sweet 16/Retirement Party eight years from now.

My brother used the date to his advantage. He got married on Leap Day. If he forgets to bring home flowers on the 28th, he can redeem himself on March 1. And if he screws that up he can wait a month, and say it was all an April Fool's joke.

There is an interesting, if also confusing, vocabulary surrounding this phenomenon. People born on Leap Day are called Leaplings. (I don't know what they call you if you die on Leap Day. Leapt perhaps?) Leap Day is formally known as Intercalary Day, meaning that it is a day inserted in the calendar between other days. A more obscure term for the day is Bissextile Day, which I guess means it's a day to send racy texts to members of both sexes.

Then there is the ancient Irish custom: On Leap Day women can propose to men and they must accept -- or offer a consolation prize, like a new gown. Legend says it originated one Leap Day in the fifth century, when St. Brigid went to St. Patrick with the suggestion. He agreed, and she promptly fell to one knee and proposed. He turned her down flat, but gave her a new sackcloth and kindly offered to let her be the Grand Marshal of his next parade.

We can curse the calendrical calculation conundrums but, an extra day is an extra day. Goodness knows we can all use one of them. So enjoy this Leap Day. Whether you are leaping, springing, falling, or prancing, remember to watch your step.

That extra day is a doozy.