All the hoopla surrounding the Daylight Savings Time nonsense mystifies me. All over my news feed there are complainers and whiners about losing a precious hour and having to change the clocks…really? Does anyone still own that many manual clocks that it’s a life-altering, I must complain about it via my social network this instant, time-sucking event?
I mean, COME ON!
I don’t know about you, but here are a few things I considered before deciding whether I wanted to jump on the bandwagon and complain too. All the cool kids are doing it.
It probably took longer to compose that status than the combined time to change any and all clocks that needed it.
YOU DID NOT LOSE AN HOUR! It’s the self-same hour that you celebrated gaining last fall. You simply borrowed it, and now you’re giving it back.
Nearly all of the time-telling devices in this house are digital and connected to a network of some sort, so they had already changed themselves by the time I shuffled myself out of the rack this morning in search of coffee. And we don’t even own anything fancy or new. The average age of electronics in this house is 9 years. The digital clock on the coffeemaker was an hour behind, it took me exactly two button presses to change it. It took me longer to remove the lid from my sugar canister. Same with the microwave (3 buttons) when I realized that the coffee had been made by someone who left in the dark to go fish for a while before going to borrow us a working chainsaw, so it’s shut itself off and is only warm – ish.
There are only two other clocks in this house that need manually changing, one is my Mother’s anniversary clock, which I touch only once a year. It never “fell back”, so “springing forward” now makes it correct again. Winning! Same goes for the one over the kitchen sink, which no one has looked at one time in six years, because everyone relies so heavily on phones and tablets and the like. I looked at it this morning. It sports some rather impressive cobwebs because “spring cleaning” hasn’t happened here since at least last summer. (Possibly the one before, but who’s counting?) It also has stopped. The battery must be dead. Which might have been yesterday, or three years ago. How would I know? I never look at the darn thing.