calamityjon @ 2008-03-10T08:04:00
Submitted by CalamityJon on March 10, 2008 - 11:06
For the first time since I was in short pants, I am living in a state which observes Daylight Savings Time, the almost-universally derided arbitrary casting-akimbo of Mickey Mouse's inexorably turning arms. Today - for the first time as an adult actually - I "Fell Forward," and later this year I will "Spring Back, Lord Have Mercy." These mnemonics for this really come in handy.
The generally accepted chestnut masquerading as the common-sense reasoning behind Daylight Savings Time has always struck me as a sort of facetious derision, the sort of thing a proponent of the measure would unleash upon its opponent as a means of calling them a buck-toothed hick whose overalls have pig shit on the knees. "It gives the farmer's an extra hour of daylight in which to work" is so insipidly inperspicacious and deliberately disingenuous that I sort of assume it to be part of an old Buddy Hackett gag involving a Southern senator, a farmer and a promiscuous daughter.
(The Senator canvassing the dirt farms of his most distant constituency when his truck breaks down outside some sorghum field in the middle of Rum, The Lash and the Buggering East of Egypt. Places himself upon the charity of a politics-minded old farmer and the farmer's mortally toothsome daughter, is berated constantly by the farmer about "Why bother having Daylight Savings Time? What's the point about Daylight Savings Time?" to every iteration of which the Senator replies "It's to give you more time to plow." Fast forward to later that evening, the Senator and the daughter in flagrante delicto, the farmer amidst the act of coitus interruptus, exhorting "What are you doing to my daughter," and the Senator replying "Look, I gave YOU more time to plow..." Add something in Yiddish, go goggle-eyed, exeunt)
I have to admit, there was something nice about looking out my kitchen window at four in the afternoon and finding it to be just a bright and early-afternoony as it had been at three the previous day. It was a slight bonus, in the fashion of having found that you've lost five pounds after suffering three days of bedrest with a vicious stomach virus; You get a little bit of a nice freebie after a measure of damnable inconvenience, and as nice as it is you'd be just as happy were it not to happen more than twice a year, thank you.
I'm still in the process of choosing a local bank. Driving through Redmond Town Center this morning on the way to work, I was able to scratch from my list a number of contenders based entirely on which of them had neglected to update the time-and-temperature sign out on their front lawn, or who at least didn't have one which updated automatically. It's not like the time change is some unexpected future, like when the Terminators take over. This is the kind of dystopia we see coming, and which also isn't really all that bad or much of a hassle, but everyone complains about it like it's forcing them to live underground while meat-crazy cyborgs hunt for them through ruined cityscapes, firing big impossible guns and generally just looking like eight different kinds of heavy metal album covers from the late Seventies. You'd think the janitor could move the clock ahead, is all I'm saying.
Lastly, for the sake of accuracy, I should point out that I have actually never been in short pants. I can't stand the idea of the damned things, I've been a long pants kind of guy since kindergarten.