Celebrating

Ask-A-Boy-Out Year

Happy Leap Day. Are you doing something out of the ordinary today? Are you taking a leap? Or is it just another day?

This morning's post from my college friend, Roy Bruce, reminded me that, not only is today Leap Day, but 2012 is Leap Year--the most perfect time to do something audacious. This is because, as I have learned, Leap Year is associated with a "whimsical tradition dating back at least four centuries (and still trotted out at four-year intervals by newspaper feature writers) which holds that leap years confer upon women the 'privilege' of proposing marriage to men instead of the other way around. The convention was (in literature, if not in reality) that any man who refused such a proposal owed his spurned suitor a silk gown and a kiss--provided she was wearing a red petticoat at the moment she popped the question."

Seriously?

Let's simplify things by saying that maybe it's time to follow Our Boy Roy's advice and just do something gutsy. For instance, instead of a marriage proposal, maybe a girl could just ask a boy out. I can attest to the value of this particular kind of "leap."

Many mothers--maybe yours--have taught their children that it's not ladylike for girls to call boys on the phone or, even worse, ask them out. Fortunately, however, I never considered myself particularly ladylike, and besides, I was forced to really work for just about every date I ever had.

I actually got pretty good at it, since I was in a girls' club in high school that had two functions every year--a banquet and a dance--and if you wanted to go, you had to do the asking. Starting my freshman year, I tried a variety of approaches, the first of which was to ask "Larry," a buddy, and claim that I had two "extra" tickets to this banquet, and did he want to go. It worked.

For the next event, I screwed up the courage to ask "Curley," a guy I actually had a huge crush on. There is, of course, much more at stake when you put yourself out there for someone who makes your palms sweat, but I was determined to go to this dance with somebody I liked--and I mean "liked" liked. So I called him. I could tell that I caught him off guard, but he said yes. Ecstatic, I started making plans. Two days later he called me, and said he couldn't go after all. Something about having to wash his hair.

I was crushed, but not destroyed.

Determined to get back on the horse, I called "Moe." By this time, though, my self-confidence was waning. I worked up the nerve to dial the number...but hung up after the first ring. Gathering myself together, I tried again...and hung up after the second ring. "Okay, this is just dumb," I told myself. "Do you want to go to this dance or not?" "Yes, yes," my Wimpy self answered. "Then just do it," my Brave self commanded.

So I dialed the number. The phone rang once. Twice. Moe's little brother answered. "Could I speak to Moe?" I squeaked, in a barely audible, not to mention trembling, voice. "Surrrrrrrrre," said Little Brother, who then covered the mouthpiece and, in an evil, sing-songy little falsetto voice said, "Mooooooooe! It's a girrrrrrrrl!"

I couldn't help it. I hung up.

And then called good old "Larry," claiming that I had two "extra" tickets to this dance and did he want to go. It worked again. The poor guy never knew what hit him...and probably won't, until he sees this picture of us forty years later on FaceBook.

Anyhow, I'm glad I did all that brash practicing in high school, because it led to a life-changing turn of events in college. (Click here to read about that wacko adventure.)

So how about you?

Even though Leap Day is almost over, there are ten months left in Leap Year to do something crazily bold, something out of the ordinary, something you've wanted to do for a long time, but just lacked the nerve.

And you really should do that thing...because when God gives you a "No guts, no glory" prompting, even if it's just for fun, He may well have a greater purpose in mind, some bigger plans. And who wants to miss out on a Leap Year kind of life?