Happy Palindrome Week

Palindrome Week, the most unnecessary of false holidays, is the celebration of balanced days. Supposedly.

This year, Palindrome Week began on July 10 and goes until July 19. That’s because, when written out in numbers, each date appears as a palindrome: 7/10/17, 7/11/17, 7/12/17 and so on. Each is the same when you read it backward. Next year, 2018, Palindrome Week will fall in the eighth month, August.

All week, my social media has been blowing up with folks wishing me a happy Palindrome Week. Oh, yeah? What’s so happy about it?

I have a lot of problems with Palindrome Week. For starters, the term “Palindrome Week” is not, in itself, a palindrome. What’s up with that? The word “palindrome” isn’t even a palindrome. That drives me as bananas as the fact that onomatopoeia is not actually an onomatopoeia.

Second, Palindrome Week is not actually a week; it’s 10 days. For a holiday and time of year that supposedly brings about balance, this is an off-kilter way for it to be marketed.

Also, does the date really have an effect on one’s mindset? On March 4, I do not find myself lifting my knees to march forth. In fact, on a crisp March morning, I’m pretty content grabbing a blanket and curling rather than marching.

Perhaps I’m the Scrooge of Palindrome Week, but I think it’s just because of all the missed potential. There is a serious lack of playful palindroming in this most unfestive of faux holidays. Think of all the joy these 10 days could bring if we all embraced the palindromes in our lives.

Day One: kayak.

Day Two: Make a moral palindrome choice: Borrow or rob? Then act on it. (Note to the police officers: It would be swell if those who opt to rob on Palindrome Day Two could get off with a warning. Thanks.)

Day Three: Put ears and whiskers on our cars and wheels on our cats, forcing us to ask the palindrome question of the day: Was it a car or a cat I saw?

Day Four: Call your palindrome parent: Mom.

Day Five: Try making your own palindrome delicacy: UFO tofu.

Day Six: Celebrate the arts and high theater in a day honoring your love for Rome: Amore Roma!

Day Seven: Either tsk-tsk or high-five, depending on your personal views, the sinner palindromites in your life: Dennis, Nell, Edna, Leon, Nedra, Anita, Rolf, Nora, Alice, Carol, Leo, Jane, Reed, Dena, Dale, Basil, Rae, Penny, Lana, Dave, Denny, Lena, Ida, Bernadette, Ben, Ray, Lila, Nina, Jo, Ira, Mara, Sara, Mario, Jan, Ina, Lily, Arne, Bette, Dan, Reba, Diane, Lynn, Ed, Eva, Dana, Lynne, Pearl, Isabel, Ada, Ned, Dee, Rena, Joel, Lora, Cecil, Aaron, Flora, Tina, Arden, Noel and Ellen sinned.

Day Eight: Call the other palindrome parent: Dad.

Day Nine: Impart some palindromian existential wisdom on your friends: Never odd or even.

Day 10: Congratulations! You survived Palindrome Week! Time to reward yourself with an epic party booby trap!

Move over, Mardi Gras. You may have beads, but we have tacocats who won't let you leave. (Don't worry, animal lovers. Palindrome Week has a strict step on no pets policy.

I'm looking at you, 2018. My mid-August had better be filled with solo gigolos.

Katiedid Langrock is author of the book "Stop Farting in the Pyramids," available at www.creators.com/books/stop-farting-in-the-pyramids. Like Katiedid Langrock on Facebook, atwww.facebook.com/katiedidhumor. To find out more about her and read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit the Creators Syndicate webpage at www.creators.com.