Hey BOOMers!
I love February and thought I’d use Myspace in this magazine to share a few no-fib Feb thoughts on our shortest month.
My affection for February (pronounced Feb-you-ary until age 10) is largely due to the harsh winters of Chicago where I lived the first 26 years of my life. We loved the 2nd month in the 2nd City mostly because it was NOT January. It always seemed that the days February was missing were secretly added to January, the longest month in more ways than one.
The post-Christmas bills begin arriving but the money to pay them comes on 1/15 and 1/30. The math says there are 2 weeks between those dates, yet somehow it feels much longer.
My dad called it Damnuary. It started with the stark post-holiday depression. Decorations came down on 1/1. The snow that garnished and enhanced Christmastime was suddenly a dirty nuisance. It was going to be cold forever.
Enduring a midwestern winter produces some gold medal mental gymnastics. January’s winter wasteland muted optimism felt on New Year’s Eve.
Improvement was a distant objective because spring was still 2 months away. At the dawn of February, spring was suddenly “next month.” This explains the universal embrace of Ground Hog’s Day on February 2. People desperate for the end of winter need hope. No one believes Punxsutawney Phil knows jack-squat about the weather. But if the furry rodent says spring will arrive early, there’s palpable joy in the air across cold-weather climes.
Even in Chicago, February produced the first signs of spring as the sport’s pages heralded spring training for the Chicago Cubs and White Sox. Baseball was back. Sure, they were preparing for the season in faraway spots in Arizona and Florida, but soon they’d be playing in Chicago, and winter would be over (though you wonder while watching a game at Wrigley Field on a 34-degree April afternoon).
February meant January’s snow drifts would begin, like glaciers, to recede.
My last two winters in Chicago were among the worst. In January of 78, I was literally stuck at my parent’s house. One afternoon, I was sullenly staring out their front window at yet another relentless blizzard when a dark sedan pulled in front of their house. The doorbell rang so I jerked open the front door- frozen in its frame- to discover two tall men standing there in London Fog trench coats. As the door opened, they produced open wallets featuring some serious-looking badges.
“Are you Gregory Benjamin Budell?” one asked rather
authoritatively. I had no idea why I was important enough for these dudes to brave a snowstorm to seek me out. Things at that time were bad already. I was out of work. I was temporarily back with Mom and Dad. A voice in my head said, “Go ahead- ruin my day. It can’t get any worse”. But it did. After all, it was January 37th (or so it seemed in the year’s longest month.
“Yes”, I squeaked.
The men were from the FBI and US Treasury. They were investigating a drug dealer who’d found my wallet in a rental car, faked a passport, and was on the lam. When did I lose the wallet? One year previous, in Damnuary of 1977. I was traveling with Styx in Miami. It had fallen under the seat of our rental car. I replaced everything when I got home, but the guy who found the wallet got some serious mileage out of it. I had stopped using my credit cards, but he hadn’t, running up thousands in charges. The men left, never to return, but I suddenly had a full-time job- clearing my name!
The credit card companies say you’re not liable, but you’re presumed guilty until you establish innocence, It was a horrible experience that ended with a new radio gig in FEBRUARY!
The following winter was just as bad. My Chicago radio station was kind enough to house us in a nearby hotel because the weather in January of 1979 was that harsh. In a February miracle, I was offered a job at a radio station in Ft. Lauderdale, and I was out of there!
The 1200-mile drive was at about halfway point when the last of the snow vanished from the landscape, February in Florida was exhilarating! From that February forward, I’d only see snow by choice!
Living in the River Region has not altered my perception of January. It may not be as cold here, but as I write this, we’ve already had two snow days in 2025!
Everything shuts down at the mere mention of the “S” word because nobody born and raised here knows how to drive in the white stuff.
I asked an expert (Siri) about the origins of February and she came back with Februa- an ancient Latin festival by that name. Februa means “to cleanse”. I’m not sure what we’re cleansing- by spirit or soap- but enjoy a hot soak and celebrate.
In February the bi-monthly paychecks are closer. Valentine’s Day is hence, so a ridiculously priced (but delicious) dinner is coming. The days are getting longer and Standard Time will end soon!
I love February. Indulge the optimism of winter’s imminent demise over these 28 days, BOOMer friends!
Have a Febulous month!
Greg Budell has lived in Montgomery for 20 years. A 50+ year veteran of radio, TV and writing, Greg hosts the Newstalk 93.1FM Morning Show with Rich Thomas, Susan Woody, and Jay Scott, 6-9 AM Monday – Friday. He returns weekday afternoons from 3-6 PM for Happy Hour with Pamela Dubuque and a variety of sidekicks. His favorite topic is life!
Greg can be reached at gregbudell@aol.com.