A Date Which Will Live In Lid-famy (What’s so special about 12/16/20)

So you think March 14, 2015 (3.1415) was the most universal date relating to a piece of popular culture there will ever be? Maybe you’re right. But you are totally discounting today—December 16, 2020, in case you’re reading this in the future . . . uture . . . ure. . .

We’ll get to the wonders of December 16, 2020 in due time, but let’s first explore the ratio of the circumference of a circle to its diameter. Pi is equal to 3.14159265358. . . It’s an irrational number, so it goes on, literally, forever. You can understand the excitement that National Pi Day in 2015 brought with the 2-digit bonus afforded by the year. It seems a more logical idea to say and write dates as “14 March, 2015” as most other countries do. Beginning with the smallest unit of time (day) and progressing toward the longest (year)—rather than middle-short-long like we crazy Americans prefer—would have squandered the joy of that special day.

I don’t know if I’m normal in this regard, but I’m fascinated by both the calendar and the clock, and these games you can play with them. I like to look at the numbers on a digital display and interpret them as having some personal or universal meaning. Using military time allows for even greater options, thus has become this number geek’s preference. You can get really fancy and allow borrowing. You remember back in the day when you subtracted two numbers with paper and pencil. Take the example of 74 minus 39. You need to borrow from the 7 (making it a 6) to turn the 4 into a 14. In the clock world, you can borrow 60 minutes from 10:30 to make it 9:90. Those are some advanced and/or psycho games, so let’s stick with the simple cases for now.

I was born on April 11. In the olden days, you’d be able to dial 411 on your landline telephone to get Information—an operator would look up someone’s phone number for you and even directly dial them. With the advent of the miracle we call the internet and—let’s be honest—Google, it’s amazing that 411 is still operational. Although a Google search tells me it now costs $1 per inquiry to use the 411 service. When asked for my birthday, I’m tempted to answer “Information-1980.” But I fear the requestor of said information will not understand.

So, maybe it’s my birthday that triggered this fascination with number games. Each time you glance at a digital clock, try to derive a meaning from the readout. Perhaps a loved one’s birthday at 11:24 AM, your freshman dorm room number at 2:32 AM, everyone’s favorite rock band from Omaha, Nebraska at 3:11 AM, or a look forward to a better year at 8:21 PM. Less of a game, maybe—more of an obsession. I hope I’m not alone in this craziness. Let me know if you play, and what your favorites are.

In an effort to further bury the lead, let’s grind our way to a topic that will blow your lid, warm your heart, and fill you to the brim with amazement. I want to talk a little about coffee. More precisely, to-go coffee cups in TV and movies. You’ve undoubtedly seen it a hundred times, but have you really noticed it? And does it irk you as much as it does me every single time? An intern walks into frame with 4 coffee cups, gripping the near corner of their drink carrier without giving proper account to the weight of all that liquid. The boss yanks his cup from one of the holes with a velocity that should send the cherished liquid spraying out the lid’s small drink hole. With an entire hand wrapped around the sleeveless cup of presumably hot coffee, he tilts it up to his mouth like he’s at the bar taking a shot with his buddies. You’re actors, dammit; at least pretend the cup’s filled with hot liquid!

I would love to see a mockumentary involve a scene with a cup of coffee swung violently around for 2 minutes by an over-expressive hand-talker. Eventually he takes the most delicate of sips before claiming the coffee is way too hot to drink. He then removes the lid and pours his coffee out in a constant stream that lasts for the next 2 minutes, all the while engaged in conversation about abstract realism in the quantum realm.

I know I said I’d only talk a little about coffee, but whatever. On we [French] press. Starbucks has percolat[or]ed to the top of the coffee world. What other coffee maker could siphon off free [Aero]press via Game of Thrones? Customers pour over the menu and see the confusing size names that were brewed up: Short (8 oz), Tall (12), Grande (16), Venti (20—hot; 24—cold), and Trenta (31—cold only). At least Venti makes sense, being Italian for 20. Kinda like the story of how vacca—Latin for cow—gave us the word vaccine.

What you may notice about those 12, 16, and 20-ounce cups is that their lids are all the same size. Some lids even have “12/16/20” etched right on them.

See it now? It took nearly 900 words, but we got here! Some people may say the numbers are just to signify which size cups they fit, but I think there’s more to it than that. It’s a call to make December 16, 2020 “International Coffee Day of the Century.” There won’t be another such date in our lifetimes.

There also won’t be another 03/14/15 until 2115, so why is our coffee date more important than the pi date that plays a role in the very shape of the lid we drink from on a daily basis. It’s a subjective choice, really. But a 12, 16, or 20-ounce coffee cup is something of substance we can literally hold in our hands, something necessary for so many to start their days. Meanwhile pi is just some irrational, ultimately inconsequential number that fascinates us only because it goes on forever. Order yourself a hot beverage of your choosing and contemplate pi’s infinite stretch of numbers. Make sure to get the 20-ounce, though. You’ll need the extra caffeine to keep you from falling asleep with boredom. When you’re finished with your drink, tell me which date is more relevant to your life.

So, you still think March 14, 2015 is the most universal pop culture date ever? The mere recency factor of December 16, 2020 should be enough to diamet[e]rically oppose you to that belief. Then again, if the circum[ference]stance expands to 3.141592653, you’ll round out a fantastic rationalization: March 14, 2015, 9:26 AM and 53 seconds. Who in your circle of friends doesn’t remember exactly where they were that pivatal second? So, I guess, yeah, come to think of it . . . You’re Probably Right.

[023] December 16, 2020