My mistake was starting the day at the bank. There I was, writing March 14 on a check, looking down at the figure bank’s helpful reminder of the date: It was March 14.
I grew up in one of many, many, generations who read Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar in the first year of high school. It was a rite of passage. Everyone knew the warning, “Beware the Ides of March.” All of the omens, all of the auguries told Julius Caesar not to go to the Senate on the Ides of March. He disregarded the warning, went to the Senate and was stabbed to death, by a dear friend, no less. And here it was the Ides of March–March 14 or 15, we were told back then. Nowadays scholars say its the 15th in the year 2017.
Of course I don’t believe in that stuff–auguries, entrails. But I found that all day, when I almost tripped on a step, made a mistake in adding, or dropped something I should have been more careful of, I said to myself. Ooops, be careful, it’s the Ides of March.
On the following morning, today, I read in the paper that March 14 is now Pi Day, so named because the first three digits of the magical mathematical number pi are 3.14.
Pi is what we use to figure out circles. It works like a charm. The way to celebrate Pi Day is to eat pie. And now they tell me! In Silicon Valley the bosses order large quantities of pie for the staff. They go exotic. Think of butterscotch toffee, or mocha and marzipan, with the decorations in intricate figures all based on pi, I presume.
I would have been happy with apple pie or chocolate cream.
Any, change is good, and it’s nice to have Pi Day as a custom. Now about March 15 and the Ides…
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