Remember to Pray for Martin Z. Mollusk Today

Today is the National Day of Prayer.

It comes to us during Flexible Work Arrangements Week.

Which, appropriately, occurs during Better Sleep Month.

So please join me now in a little prayer: Oh, dear Lord, please give bosses around the world the wisdom and grace to allow their charges to ignore the alarm clock for the remainder of the week.

Today being Thursday, that would only give us one morning to sleep in. Pity that National Prayer Day doesn’t come on a Monday.

And why not? It all seems so arbitrary. The whole calendar is chaotic--a great train wreck of designated days, weeks and months, not to mention the anniversaries and birthdays of note.

Take today, May 7. Is there any rhyme or reason that the National Day of Prayer would coincide with the Beaufort Scale Day? This occasion honors the British naval officer who in 1805 devised a scale of wind force. Are paste-up artists aware that today is also Paste-Up Day, which honors all in that field?

And how do they feel knowing they must share their special occasion with a hermit crab named Martin Z. Mollusk? Mollusk, it seems, is Ocean City, N.J.’s answer to the noted Pennsylvania groundhog Punxsutawney Phil, predicting summer rather than spring. Worse, today is also National Privy Diggers Day? And what, you ask, is Privy Diggers Day? “A celebration to honor those individuals who choose to dig up the past in an unconventional way,” the Prospect Heights, Ill., sponsors explain. “Many important historical artifacts are found through this exploration of old outhouses.”

By now you may be wondering how I’ve become so well-informed in the matters of the day--this day in particular. It all started when an editor took note of peculiarities of one recent date and proposed a merger: “Take Your Secretary to Earth Day.” Certainly this makes more sense than L.A. staging a Cinco de Mayo fiesta on April 26.

Thanks to politicians, greeting card companies, trade groups and sundry interest groups, every little square on the calendar presents a battle royal of special occasions.

It’s surprising that we haven’t yet broken 24 hours into smaller units, honoring things by the hour or minute. Somebody somewhere will start marketing 15 minutes of fame, with scrolls featuring computer-generated calligraphy. (Look for a booth soon at CityWalk.)

Much of what I’ve learned about our crowded, confused calendar comes from a soft-cover compendium called Chase’s 1998 Calendar of Events, now in its 41st year of publication. I take the accuracy of this book on faith, even though it’s ignored some significant occasions, such as the city of Santa Clarita’s declaration of Adjustable Wrench Month some years back.

Still, Chase’s account of the so-called “merry month of May” is a revelation. It’s national “awareness” month for digestive diseases, high blood pressure, stroke, trauma, allergy/asthma, hepatitis, Huntington’s disease, melanoma/skin cancer, fibromyalgia, neurofibromatosis and, last but certainly not least, mental health. But be aware also that May can be mighty tasty. Barbecue, shrimp, hamburger, eggs, mushrooms, salsa, bread pudding--all celebrated in one place or another.

And insofar as May is both National Self-Discovery Month and Personal History Awareness Month, allow me to explain why this particular week is especially significant to me.

You see, I didn’t think of last Monday as National Weather Observer’s Day, Rhode Island Independence Day or Relationship Renewal Day, beautiful sentiment though that is. To me it was Mom’s birthday, and I love her all the more for the times she’s understood the forgetfulness of her youngest child.

When the family gathers for Mother’s Day on Sunday, we’ll also celebrate her birthday and my brother’s as well. I’ll be able to tell him that his birthday, May 9, falls on Jamestown Landing Day, National Small Business Day and the anniversary of the oft-quoted 1961 speech in which Federal Communications Commission chairman Newton Minnow declared that TV is a “vast wasteland.”

I can also tell my brother he’s lucky he doesn’t live in Montana, or he’d be competing with Peter Paddlefish Day. Peter Paddlefish, I’m told, is to Sidney, Mont., pretty much what Martin Z. Mollusk is to Ocean City, N.J.

Money, of course, is behind much of this madness. As I read up on the Peter Paddlefish Day Festival, for example, I learn that Peter and his girlfriend, Paula, unlike Martin Z. Mollusk or Punxsutawney Phil, do not predict the arrival of seasons by their shadow. They are honored at the opening of paddlefish season on the Yellowstone River. “Family activities and games, a parade and food highlight the event,” the Sidney Chamber of Commerce cheerfully explains. “Interestingly, paddlefish are a prehistoric fish species whose roe is sold as caviar on the international market. Who would have thought Montana--the land of cows and cowboys--was also a world supplier of caviar!”

Ah, another dish to add to our May feast. Perhaps we should serve it on Sunday, for it is not only Mother’s Day, but also Vesak, the annual observance of Buddha’s birthday, enlightenment and death. I learned that not from Chase’s, but from Times religion writer John Dart. Chase’s omission reveals itself to be multiculturally incorrect.

And what about the history and culture of San Fernando Valley? A check of the 1998 volume’s index shows not a single reference. And when I look by the 200th anniversary of the San Fernando Mission on Sept. 8, 1997, I find nothing. The Valley, snubbed again.

But it could have been worse. At least Chase’s didn’t miss the Sept. 8 anniversary of the first episode of “Star Trek” on Burbank-based NBC. And it didn’t overlook the “Tarzan” TV series anniversary either.

If it weren’t for Tarzan, you know, there would be no Tarzana.