Doubt anyone marked last week’s Leap Day the way it once was. Traditions collapsing again.

At the risk of being dubbed misogynist, racist or arrogant in my twilight years, I raise the subject of Sadie Hawkins Day – an event set up by Hekzebiah Hawkins, founder of the Li’l Abner comic-strip town Dogpatch, to secure his daughter a husband.

Poor Sadie Hawkins was the “homeliest gal” in the hills. Not a one of the local hillbillies was “man enough t’ marry mah dotter”, Pappy complained.

So he set up a race, simple rules. Dogpatch’s bachelor louts were sent panicking at the blast of his blunderbuss, Sadie went tearing after them at the second blast. First varmint she snagged, she hitched.

The race was a hit. Became an annual event. It was actually on November 13 but borrowed on the February 29 Ladies Privilege tradition going back to the lovelorn St Brigid and her uninterested St Patrick.

Idea was address the imbalance of only men proposing marriage.

These days, that’s tipped well and truly on its head – Married at First Sight, Bachelors and Bachelorettes, Farmer Wants a Wife …

First Fright more like it. And Wants a Life. Desperate, dateless and clueless after 15 minutes of infamy closer the mark, I suspect. Marriage’s hardly the end goal.

Tradition’s out the window. How can it be anything else? Even your PM thinks marriage is getting down on one-knee four years late. Seriously, what’s that even mean? Engaged for what?

I just don’t get a lot of weddings these days. Legally meaningless Bali weddings? Yeah, nah. Commitment ceremonies? Yeah, nah. Surprise weddings? Why? Renewing your vows? Forgotten them?

Sure, might save some cash in Bali but guests have to pay airfares, accommodation, give up their hols for your hols and buy a present, too.

Seriously, just throw a barbie for your mates.

Don’t mean to be a curmudgeon but why do have to buy an expensive wedding-register present for couples living together for years when you also have to finance accomm, outfits, days off work and usually times two?

Bit of an ask. Last time I coughed up, thing didn’t last a year. Don’t I still get the present back? Don’t be stupid.

But that’s nothing on what you might be up for if you’re press-ganged as bridesmaid or, heaven forbid, a maid of honour. Milkmaid more like it, that’s what’s going to happen.

With traditions collapsing, February 29 doesn’t assist these pursuits anymore. Good thing too, I’d suggest.

Mind you, I feel for mums landing a Feb 29 delivery. When do they celebrate the little varmint’s birthday?

As for overseas, my Indian mate says weddings are a lot cheaper back home. About $15,000 for 500 of your closest friends. Dances, colour, full-on racket, the lot. Might even have enough left over for a honeymoon.

If you’re invited, check you’re stocked up on Lomotil, a recently returned guest suggests. Seems Bali belly’s not restricted to Bali.

This article appeared in the Geelong Advertiser 5 March 2024.