Don’t get me wrong. Overall, I’m a fan of springing ahead. As much – perhaps more – than the next guy, I love that it’s lighter later. I especially love it in the summer when we can – and do – sit out into the evening enjoying our pretty patio outside our Denver house.
The most significant problem I have with Daylight Savings Time is that it comes while we are in Arizona. As you may or may not know, Arizona doesn’t observe Daylight Savings Time. Their resistence is singular among all of the states in our United States. As I recall, there is a stubborn county or two in Indiana which, for inexplicable reasons, also doesn’t move the hands of their clocks twice a year. Arizona’s reason, however, is explicable. Why on earth would anyone want to extend daylight in the summer when temperatures hover in the low hundreds? The setting sun is a welcome sight. The temperature plummets to the 90s at night.
My practical problem with DST is that suddenly, beginning at 2 o’clock in the morning on the day of the time change, my peeps in Denver are an hour ahead of me. My peeps in Vermont are three hours ahead of me. This reality requires me to do math in order to know if now is an appropriate time to call.
Jen and I talk a couple of times a week, and nearly always while she is driving to work. That is around 8 in the morning. By that time, I have a couple of cups of coffee in me, I have posted my blog and gone through my emails, Bill and I have eaten breakfast, and I am relaxed and ready to talk on the telephone. Now if and when she calls me, it will be 7 o’clock in the morning my time and I am liable to sound more like a zombie than an intelligent human being.
By the way, here is what our telephone calls generally sound like…..
Jen: Did you watch American Idol last night? Didn’t Trent sound so good? I think he is in the running to win.
Me: I did watch, but I was distracted by my concern that J-Lo was going to encounter a wardrobe malfunction and the audience would see more of her than normal, if, indeed, that is possible.
Jen: What are you making for dinner tonight?
Me: I put a roast in the crock pot. That way it will be ready when I get home from work. Oh, that’s right. I don’t work any longer.
And NEVER, EVER…..
Me: Did you watch the presidential debate last night?
Jen: Of course I did. The Bachelor was on opposite, but I felt it was much more important to watch the debate.
Me: I agree. Have you decided yet which of the two evils you will be voting for?
The other reason for my lack of enthusiasm for the arrival of DST is that our technology gets so confused. Some of them understand the concept of being in Arizona Mountain Time and not Mountain Daylight Time and change accordingly (or more aptly, don’t change), but others don’t. For example, yesterday Bill and my brother Dave went to the NASCAR race at Phoenix International Speedway. Bill dutifully set his alarm for 5:15 because my brother was picking him up at 6. (The race begins at 12:30, but for reasons I don’t quite understand, they feel compelled to get out early to get a jump start on the beer drinking and eardrum splitting.) Anyway, a 5:15 awakening is not terribly unbearable as I nearly always get up sometime between 5:30 and 6 anyway. But at 4:15 our time, Bill’s alarm cheerfully went off. Bill awoke from his dead sleep ready to spring into the shower. It took some gentle, but relentless coaxing to get him to understand that his telephone (on which he had set the alarm) apparently thought it was in Denver and sprang forward. He went back to sleep. I didn’t. We will spend the next couple of days convincing our technology that we aren’t observing DST.
So, friends and family, for the next couple of months, think of me as a Californian. At least as far as what time it is.
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