Here at the Ministry of Pesky Problems we’ve stated again and again that we’re not putting up with daylight-saving time anymore. If the powerful daylight-saving time lobby wants to make something of it, so be it.
This straightforward decree came about because the entire civilized world went totally wacko this month over clock juggling. This phenomenon goes back to Biblical times when Noah went boating one evening at high tide because he forgot to set his hourglass ahead.
I like to think I keep reasonable tabs on most of God’s works, but I don’t think she had anything to do with daylight-saving time. If she had, she would have given Noah a Rolex and a front-end loader.
Those of us who live in both Texas and New Mexico — don’t ask us why — are the most affected by daylight-saving time. Imaginary lines already exist between the two states, the most devilish being one that designates time zones.
For instance, when you drive into Texas from New Mexico, it takes two hours to get 70 miles. But when you return, you often get here before you left. To make matters worse, when daylight-saving time took effect, New Mexico went on Pacific Time while Texas went on Mountain Time. Is that clear? Of course not.
(Column note: Arizona, which forbids daylight-saving time, celebrates this month by ritual burnings in effigy of Hiram Wallclock, the inventor of the Mickey Mouse watch.)
So what’s needed is a revolt headed by someone with a brain the size of a pea who will stand up and yell, “Hold on there! We don’t need to save daylight any more. Golf is waning, and we have rooms in our houses that are better lighted than outdoors.”
Which brings up another puzzle. What do they mean by “saving” daylight? Is it possible to bank the stuff and withdraw it later, say in December, without penalty? And how much interest measured in minutes do we get each month on our savings? Not many, you can bank on that.
Imagine the added confusion in cities that straddle time zones. Then add further chaos in some Midwest counties that outlaw daylight-saving time. The result may be the base cause of escalating divorce rates in this country, depending on which bedroom you sleep in, with whom and for how long.
Put another way, how many times has someone asked that profound question, “Now that daylight-saving time is in effect, will Oprah be on in the morning or afternoon?”
When my wife Marilyn was alive, she never bothered with these weighty mysteries. She always said, “Just set your watch ahead an hour and stop grumbling.”
“What would happen if I refused?” I said.
“The world would end tomorrow.”
“Well, I refuse anyway,” I said, folding my arms.
She nodded. “Good. I’ve always preferred being fashionably late.”
“Won’t we be an hour early?” I said.
She shook her head. “Not at your age.”
“Does Einstein figure into this anarchy?
“Not really,” she said, “but if you’re looking for something to do this evening, you can reset all the little programs on my digital watch.”
Bob Huber is a retired journalist living in Portales.