It is once again that time of year where we, the reasonably
intelligent citizens of the United States, consent to participate in the
semiannual sham of Daylight Savings.
I am frankly insulted that our leaders in Washington believe
we are stupid enough to buy into the premise that merely by advancing our clocks
by one hour, we will lead happier, more productive lives. Thank you, Mr. President, for providing me an
extra hour each spring to reset the hundred or so clocks and timers in my
home, office, and vehicles. One more
hour, and I might remember how to reset my digital watch as well.
Even those of us who bought into the stories of an alien
weather balloon crashing in New Mexico, or that nonsense about Lance Armstrong
landing on the moon, are hard pressed to swallow the idea that advancing our
clocks by one hour will earn us an extra sixty minutes to work, play, or make
prank phone calls to the Department of Homeland Security. (“Do you have Prince Sultan in a can?” Or, “Is
that a warhead in your pants, or are you just glad to see me?”)
Newsflash: In search of this elusive 25th hour, NASA
scientists, using a sophisticated mathematical algorithm, were able to prove
that during Daylight Savings, there are still only twenty-four hours in a day!
Listen up, Washington DC: the progression of time is a fact of nature. Irrespective of what the clock indicates, even a television meteorologist knows the per diem amount of sunlight remains relatively consistent during any given month of any given year. End of debate.
Still not convinced? One
need only look to the behavior of your own children to see that messing with
time runs contrary to the laws of nature.
Except for those parts altered by the consumption of
genetically modified corn, young children are more-or-less creatures of nature.
As such, they are not roused into daily
consciousness by the ticking of a clock, but instead by their own Cicadian
rhythms – that primordial force within which causes them to rise from their beds
and demand food. Following this logic, I always assumed the sun had far more to do with society’s productivity than the time of day.
Vampires and teenagers notwithstanding, I have observed when the sun comes up, most folks tend to rouse into consciousness. Conversely, when the sun sets, we begin yawn and feel sleepy. On dark, cloudy days, it’s tough to get out of bed. On bright sunny days, we often wake with the birds.
Speaking of birds, the digital alarm on my nightstand faces a window. Never have I observed a single avian species perched on my windowsill attempting to see whether it was time to commence their bird-like activities.
Bluejay: “Is it time to crap on that dude’s car?”
Robin: “Let me check my fake Rolex.”
Robin: “No clue. I can’t
tell time.”
Nor do the other sundry creatures which roam our neighborhood appear sensitive to the hour. I expect this would hold true even if we set our clocks ahead by ten hours.
But if DST is considered so absurd by the scientific community, and likewise contrary to natural law, why do we continue to observe it?
It seems the origins of Daylight Savings Time can be traced to an ill-conceived political response to growing pressure on the agricultural industry to provide food to America’s booming post-World War II population.
It was believed at the time that providing more sunlight at the end of the day during growing season would allow farmers to find their way home from their favorite taverns before dark, thus preventing countless implement related amputations. Nowadays, with the bulk of our agricultural production outsourced to China, this once revolutionary initiative appears to have outlived its usefulness.
The state of Indiana, a long-time holdout in the DST battle, had for decades refused to join with the rest of the country in observing Daylight Savings. As a result, Hoosiers (a French term meaning “Gesundheit”) kept their clocks permanently set to noon Eastern because, according to Indiana Department of Agriculture spokesman Terry Haute, “The cows need milkin’ when they need a milkin’ and the corn don’t grow no faster.”
In a dark day for sanity, Indiana eventually passed legislation to honor Daylight Savings. The motion carried by a narrow margin, barely defeating a bill proposed by Indiana’s large Amish community which would have abolished time altogether and made possession of any mechanical timepiece other than a sundial illegal.
What’s more, our constant meddling with the time-space
continuum does little to bolster our reputation with the rest of the developed world. Europeans are sitting back right now,
laughing at our arrogant disregard for the laws of the physical universe,
mocking us for believing that by merely passing a proclamation, we can cause
today to become one hour longer than the day before.
“Basil, have you any idea what the time is across the pond?”
“Really, Reginald. What
with their willy-nilly clock fiddling, it’s anybody’s guess.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
[Yawn.] “Pass the sheep
intestines.”
Truly, this biannual attempt at chronological alchemy is
tantamount to reordering the periodic table of elements, rearranging the points
on a compass, or requiring politicians to tell the truth. Fact: the stuff inside your Aquafina bottle will still have two hydrogen something-or-others to every oxygen thingamajig whether or not we arbitrarily alter its atomic number from H20 to UB40. Likewise, swapping the “W” for the “N” on your compass will no more cause the needle to point in a direction other than north than it will water to run uphill.
Of course logic and common sense have never been a priority in America. Just ask those first plucky individuals who climbed aboard boats the size of modern day sofas, and after washing ashore at Plymouth Rock, gazed out upon the wild, untamed landscape, lousy with dangerous creatures and Indians, and set about to invent the International Dateline.
