Confused about Leap Year, Leap Day and Reno
The Leap Day during a Leap Year operation always confuses me. This year, the big leap sent me looping through Nevada to get an extra dose of confusion.
I was in Reno. Not confusing. Been there before. Like it. Then I remembered something and went into a confusion spiral.
Dial up country music legend
Johnny Cash and you will also get one of his Number One hits: Folsom
Prison Blues.
Great song. Heard it often. Like it.
It mentions Reno. That’s confusing.
One lyric:
“But I shot a man in Reno,
“Just to watch him die.
“When I hear that whistle blowing
“I hang my head and cry.”
Think about it. He shot a man in
Reno. That would be Reno, Nevada.
Murder. Bad. Caught. Sentenced to prison. Good.
Except our remorseful murderer is in prison in Folsom State Prison. Which is in California. Has been since the 1880s. California’s second state prison. So, I’m confused. How did a murderer who “shot a man in Reno, just to watch him die,” end up in prison in California? Nevada has prisons. Several, actually in the Carson City and Reno areas.
So how did the bad guy end up in California? Pretty sure murder is a crime in Reno, too. Did he leave Reno and commit another crime in California? I don’t get it. Such confusing details aside, still a great song.
That quandary led me to question Reno’s official motto: “Biggest Little City in the World.”
That might have been true in 1910, when the slogan was coined. But have you been to Reno lately? It’s not “little.” It’s bursting at the seams, it seems. About
300,000 residents. Granted, compared to LA, New York and Houston, that’s “little.” But to a hayseed from the sprawling Bishop Metroplex, it’s a full-blown city.
Part Two of the Reno quandary. Reno got famous as a “quickie divorce” town, where millionaires, corporate big shots, celebrities and a long list of movie stars came to get unhitched. The key to the “quickie divorce” was folks only had to reside in Reno (and Nevada) for six weeks, not the months and years in other states. So, the famous big money folks would roll into town and spend six weeks in fancy motels or dude ranches and then get a divorce.
Here is where I get confused: People would hang out for six weeks with a spouse they wanted to divorce before doing the deed?
Bet that was fun.
Speaking of fun, that whole Reno diversion was hilarious, Mr. Confusion.
Can we get back to being confused about Leap Year and Leap Day?
Sure. Sorry to get sidetracked.
Thanks.
Leap Year. I am confused. I have questions. Since it actually takes more than a year for the Earth to circle the sun, is it a lie to congratulate someone for “making another lap around the sun” on their birthday, since they actually made a lap and little more? What we call a “regular year” is, as a matter of fact, 365.2 days. To be precise, the “extra” time is 5 hours, 48 minutes and 56 seconds, which doesn’t sound like a lot, but over time it adds up.
That extra time for the Earth to get around the sun makes me wonder if I am the right age. Should I be a little older in the third year after a Leap Year? Or maybe, hopefully, a little younger in the first year of a Leap Year? If either option is true, I am never the age I claim. And neither are you. Cd
Would people think I’m weird if I told them my age and included my “Leap Year Age,” which would include the fractional Leap Year portion. It would be XX.2 next year, and XX.4 in two years, and XX.6 in three years?
I’m confused.
Obviously.
OPINION
(Klusmire of Bishop is terrified to even think about how much time he has “gained” thanks to Daylight “Savings” Time.)