February is one of the favorite months in my double, even triple life. It counts many blessings: framed by the American high holidays of the Superbowl at the beginning and the Oscars at the end, spiced up in the middle by the Italian musical sanctity of Sanremo: there is never a dumb moment in February. Right. Provided that you are ready to forget about sleep, and follow the holy ceremonies in real time. Who would want to see the already deathly boring American sport the day after, or hear the honey-sounding words “…and the winner is…” even one minute after they are spoken?
This year, in addition to the usual American addictions, we have the primaries of both parties, and every week early morning radio shows are full of screaming commentators, overtired and hyper, just as much as we are confused and still waking up, and trying to remember if Rubio is better than Cruz and why. By the time the coffee is ready, we remember that whoever the other candidates are, Trump is still first and this must be a parallel universe. And the Force is nowhere to be seen.
With Sanremo things are less challenging time-wise, with only one hour difference. But watching the festival of the establishment’s music of Italy still means embarking in week long heated discussions about the attire and hairdo of anyone on stage including the Orchestra, long and pointless commercials (forget about the mind-blowing Superbowl million dollar clips), and here and there paying attention to some music. Exhausting exercise.
Talking about exercise, the local happening in February is the only one here listed that forces us to be outdoors: the Tel Aviv Marathon. That’s not a coincidence: some years February is already fair and warm, between the rains. Israeli Sabres have this habit of putting back the coat in the middle of the month, and on marathon day it’s absolutely normal to see everyone around wearing t-shirts and shorts. Welcome to Israel where big events are outdoors and seasons a not practiced theory.
* Daniela Fubini (Twitter @d_fubini) lives and writes in Tel Aviv, where she arrived in 2008 from Turin via New York.