Tag Time

Present Tense

Michael 3 Comments

I did it again. I was working on a project for the foundation and man, did it ring true. Naturally they are supposed to be relatable. If not, the topics brought up there would hardly be inspirational and that’s the whole point of it. Sometimes, ‘relatable’ and ‘chill-inducing’ cross paths and it makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up and take notice.  And believe me, when you don’t have much of it, you notice where your hairs are doing something.

Three weeks ago, we posted to the ROAMcare website and social media accounts the message:

Days don’t check in with your calendar or daily to do list. They go where they will and your only choice is to go where they take you. You take what’s given and make the most and the best of each one and every day you still show up because every day is a gift.

 It’s not the most profound thought in the world. Everybody has heard the old saw, “Yesterday is history. Tomorrow is a mystery. Today is a gift. That’s why we call it ‘The Present.’” So said First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt. And so said billions and billions of others since. Okay so maybe not quite that many people but a lot of people have worked “today is a gift, that’s why we call it the present” into speeches, articles, and the occasional blog post.

In this particular blog, just two weeks ago, I opened a post with these words:

Do you ever do something and surprise yourself at how profound you are? Me neither, but I did something that really had me thinking for a few days. I kept saying to myself “Yeah, that’s me, damn it. I can do better!”

Truer words were probably spoken but I can’t recall when unless they were those same words a week earlier when we were batting around the “Days don’t check in…” and I found myself going back to those three little sentences over and again for days! Yes, once again I said to myself, “Self,” I said, “that’s me!”

Days indeed go where they will, they don’t check in, and we’re only along for the ride. But here’s the thing. We aren’t in control of the ride and that annoys the dickens out of a lot of people. Our intent with that now three week old post was to acknowledge our lack of control, but in exchange we get an opportunity to make the best of each day as it comes. As with so much of life, that is an opportunity easier granted than accepted. It certainly makes sense, but how can we show up every day and make the most of it. And still I pondered.

Those mental meanderings brought us to this week’s entry on the ROAMcare site. This week we expanded on that thought from early May with:

“Yesterday is history. Tomorrow is a mystery. Today is a gift. That’s why we call it ‘The Present.’” Eleanor Roosevelt knew what she was talking about. For over 8,000 Americans, tomorrow won’t come. Transform “It can wait till later” into “There’s no time like the present!” If you want to do something, if you need to say something, today is a great day to do it, a great day to say it, a great day to go for it! Today is the gift!!

It doesn’t seem to say much more than we already said but oh, yes, it does! It comes right out and says, “There’s no time like the present…do it…say it…go for it!” If you don’t, you may never get the chance again. (And will notice, we gave credit to Mrs. R.)  

At the risk of looking back rather than ahead, please always remember, “You can’t change the past. You can only learn from it.” (Now that quote has been attributed to all manner of people and the words always get changed just a teeny bit.) Really you can’t change the past. You can’t play “what if” with something that’s already happened. You can’t ask for a do-over from life.

In my life, there have been many times when the right moment for the right words or the right gesture presented itself and I chose to wait for a better opportunity, when the boss is in a better mood, when the sun is a little brighter, the words chosen a little better, or the setting a little more perfect. Second chances don’t happen. Once upon a time I wrote a blog post claiming the odds of anything and everything in life happening are 50/50. Everything from hitting the lottery to meeting your soulmate can be boiled down to it will, or it won’t. There is no it might if I wait for things to be just a little better. Once the moment is gone, the moment is gone. Once the present becomes the past, it is untouchable but until the future becomes today, it is unreachable.

Your only chance is to do it, say it, go for it today, because today is the gift of all gifts, the gift you’ve been given, the one and only time you control. And that is a most wonderful present.

Blog Art (2)

It’s that time again

Michael Leave a comment

Once upon a time they lived happily ever after (2)Did you notice we shifted time last week? Most of us. If you didn’t notice then you probably picked up on it if you were on social media, read any newspaper editorials, and tuned into a television or radio talk show as we once again took part in the semi-annual “why do we have to change the clock let’s stay on daylight saving time all year long” debate. Apparently in the last five days, traffic accidents have gone up 13%, hearts attacks increased by more than 50%, and two more glaciers have disappeared. I don’t know about the glaciers but the other stuff indeed I’ve read with my own eyes. Personally, I don’t care about whether we do or don’t have daylight saving time (and yes, that is the correct nomenclature regardless of the bazillion people who say daylight savings time). What I don’t understand is why if all these people are invoking that it is not natural to shift time twice a year are not also invoking a steady diet of natural, AKA standard time. Apparently they don’t want to be bothered with changing time but enjoy the extra hour of daylight at the end of the day rather than the beginning. The other thing I don’t understand is that 19 states have legislature pending to adopt year round daylight savings time and one to adopt standard time as the, um, well, standard time. That, by my rudimentary grasp of mathematics equals 20, and 20 from 50 equals 30 states who don’t care. Thirty is greater than twenty so invoking the age old democratic dictum that majority rules, let’s just leave it all alone. (Of course, exceptions to old dicta are made for former Presidents who can’t count.)

It’s that time again doesn’t mean the only thing we have to discuss this week is time. No, that’s just the warm-up. The main event is that it’s that time again to clear the desk of all the little sticky notes of stuff that has to be mentioned before the weight of them buckles the left front desk leg. For instance, did you know:

Pennsylvania’s state senate just passed a bill, now to go to the state house for debate, eliminating the need for a permit to carry a weapon, either open or concealed. Actually firearms, not all weapons. Apparently somebody has been reading only part of the Second Amendment again. From a news article, proponents of the bill said, “law-abiding gun owners should not need the government’s permission to carry a firearm.” I’m writing my state senator tomorrow insisting he introduce legislation saying that law-abiding citizens should not need the government’s permission to drive a car, own a car, practice law, medicine or cosmetology, be a nurse, pharmacist or barber, bury people, cremate others, or drive school busses filled with our future bullies, er leaders. And we certainly don’t need the government’s permission to set our clocks twice a year.

Also in the news: Dixie State University is close to changing its name, one often associated with the Deep South and slavery, but not without local opposition. It seems the name has a lot of support because the region has no history of slavery but that “Dixie” references its attempt to become a major cotton growing area outside the Deep South in the late 1800s. So now you’re confused also. Well maybe this will clear things up. The proposed new name of the college is Utah Tech University. Who knew Utah was a big cotton grower?

Circling back to Pennsylvania: An attorney was having difficulty navigating his way through the metal detector at the Allegheny County Courthouse. After removing his coat and emptying his pockets of wallet, coins, and keys, and still setting off the detector he asked the guard to “wand” him because it was his suspenders that were causing the alert. He knew that because he almost always is stopped there because of his suspenders. Apparently the guard was not impressed with His Dapper-ness and instructed him to take off his suspenders which the now less than dapper lawyer did along with the trousers said suspenders were supporting, and passed through the metal detector in socks, shirt, underwear, and apparently a good measure of attitude. The attorney was charged with disorderly conduct. A newspaper article detailing the incident reported the lawyer stated, “(the) security guard “got in my personal space” and demanded that he take off his suspenders or leave. (The attorney) said he was frustrated and did not want to be late for his pro bono work representing people in the family court.” Perhaps the next time he is off to do his pro bono work for the people he may want to invest in a belt. No word on if he was already late because he incorrectly reset his watch earlier in the week.

Happy Veterans’ Day to me and many many many many many others. Every now and then I have to remind myself that I really am a veteran. I’m not permitted to claim protected veteran status thanks to an executive order dating back to the Obama administration conferring said status only to those having served during combat or awarded the Armed Services Medal which was established on June 1, 1992. I was separated in March 1992 with no combat duty.

I think that’s enough although I could mention how Prince Harry claims to have forewarned of the Capitol riots, that Dr. Oz, an Ohio Native and a current New Jersey resident is mulling a run in the Pennsylvania 2022 Senatorial race, or that a cow closed a major roadway in England for an hour, a morning rush hour, while 10 police officers attempted to, ahem, corral the bovine. I thought cows jumped over the moon, this one jumped over the fence. And if that cow was planning on a trip to the moon, or at least to the International Space Station, she would be doing it in a diaper, just like the returning astronauts had to wear on their eight hour trip home because the toilet in their SpaceX capsule was broken. Not to worry that we didn’t get to these. There will be more time again some other time again for more of that time again.

Time Marches On

Michael 2 Comments

Just yesterday I was researching a topic for an article I am writing. I thought I had all the information I needed but I wanted to find something that I could reference that was not “scholarly” research. I turned to Google and typed in my query, then skipped the titles of the resulting pages and gave the descriptions a quick scan. I found a couple I thought would work. I clicked on one and then the other, and as the page painted on the screen, I realized I was looking at one of my own blog posts!

You would think I would remember a blog I wrote. In my defense it was from nearly three years ago, early in the kidney transplant series. Three years ago seems like a long time now. When we’re very young, preschool age, three years didn’t mean anything which makes sense because when you are only 4 or 5 years old, 3 years is most of our life. You don’t even think about time. There isn’t a reference to how long something is or lasts. You wake up, you eat, you play, you nap, you play again, you eat some more, you play one more time, you sleep.  The only thing that varies from day to day is what Garanimal you are wearing.

As we get older, three years starts to have some meaning although it’s still fairly abstract. To an 8 year old, the 11 year old version is bigger, has a bigger bike, maybe has more homework, but the 8 year old isn’t particularly chomping at the bit to close that three year gap. Now the 13 year old starts putting some meaning into a three year stretch. At thirteen things are starting to happen, not necessarily overt but now there are times when you look back three years and say how easy it was then, back in the safety of elementary school  when nobody really cared what color your bike was, while simultaneously looking ahead three years when you get to trade that bike in for a license and a car! But that also puts you into high school and all you can tell from your 13 year old perspective is those older kids are always angry about something.

By the time you get through those high school years, 3 years is an eternity.  The 18 year old version of you can’t even remember being a gawky 15 year old at a first dance absolutely refusing to make eye contact with those people on the other side of the gym. Looking ahead, three years wouldn’t even get you through college if that was your path, and whether you’re university bound or directly entering work life, your reign as BMOC (I suppose today, BNGSOC) has come to an end and your new status is back to low man on the totem pole. (And if you can rework that phrase politically correctly, congratulations!)

hourglassRise you did though, the years went by, and in your mid to late 20’s three years is much like the adult version of the elementary school years. You see ahead a bigger version of you – a bigger job with a bigger car, bigger house, bigger family. They come with more home work (now two words). The difference now is that you are chomping at the bit to close that gap and get to “biggers” as quickly as you can.

Young adulthood goes by in a blink. The real adult phase you don’t even remember. Then suddenly, you turn middle age. Three years is a drop in the bucket. Plans you made that you were “definitely going to do next year” don’t get done for three, a three year old car is now new to you, three years is the life expectancy of the paint on the walls, the feeling that every day is the same stretches to every year is the same, and the only thing that varies from year to year is what size waist band you are wearing.

And then there is now. Three years, only three years, yet I couldn’t recognize my own words. What other things happened three years ago that now belong to somebody else’s memories. The last time I went into work, the last time I planned a vacation, the last time I danced with somebody. The last time I shared picnic blanket and bottle of wine under a sunny summer sky.

I suppose it is only a matter of a few more year, perhaps three, that the years won’t mean anything which makes sense because when you are of a certain age you don’t even think about time. There isn’t a reference to how much longer something might last. You wake up, you eat, you play, you nap, you play again, you eat some more, you sleep.  The only thing that varies from day to day is the expression you are wearing and the feeling in your heart.

Continuing with my experiment on the WordPress/Anchor partnership, Don’t Believe Everything You Think is available on these platforms.

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Please let me know what you think. So far I’m still mostly just recording the blog posts but eventually there will be more than that. We might even get into a discussion about how we all got into blogging.

This post will begin to be available on these platforms later today.

A Gift of Time

Michael 2 Comments
 

I intended to post this last Monday but I instead did a mini tribute for Sean Connery. So, it may be a few days late but still timely. (Timely! Get it, timely. Hahahaa, oh I crack myself up!

—–

They say time marches on. They also say we should adjust our time twice a year. Did you remember to change your clocks before you turned in Saturday night or did you arrive everywhere an hour late on Sunday? Or would that have been an hour early? “They” tell us to do these things and we do, not often thinking of the consequence if we don’t because we never don’t.

In the grand scheme of things our time here is not terribly important. The world has been around for 4.5 billion years. Man has inhabited it for 200,000 of those. That’s about 0.0044%. Not statistically significant. But humans don’t think in terms of the grand scheme. We consider every hour precious and when we’re told to give one back, like we were last April, we spend days complaining about the hour we lost. It becomes the excuse for all time related failures. “I was late for work because I had to set the clock ahead last Saturday.” But this “Last Saturday” we were given a gift of an hour. For one hour on Sunday morning we got a redo. We had the chance to relive an hour of our lives. What did you do with your gift? If you just slept it away you’re probably in good company as I’m sure that was how many spent their time.

NewYearsClock

I’ve never made a true study of it but I would not doubt that “If I had to do it all over again … ” is one of the most oft uttered phrases in the English language and no doubt its equivalent in all the others. (Except maybe Esperanto. Well, it sounded like a good idea to somebody.) (Esperanto that is, not uttering “If I had to do it over again.” That doesn’t just sound like a good idea, it is a good idea.) (The phrase, not Esperanto.) (Sheesh!) I also don’t doubt that most people end that with “… I’d do the same thing.” It sounds like such a good idea. It is such a good idea! It’s such a good idea the golf people gave it a name – a Mulligan. It’s such a good idea don’t hold it against the golf people for coming up with such a stupid name. It’s such a good idea kids in the playground gave it a name too, a good name. A do over. It’s such a good idea, the world gifted us with twenty-four additional extra hours this year. Imagine all the things you might have redone with an extra day. (And that day came before most of the real Covid Craziness!) Imagine an extra day trip, an extra day to vacation, or an extra day on the slopes or on the beach depending on your personal preference. 

Or would you use an extra day as an opportunity to spend a day volunteering instead of selfishing. I’ll go closer to the end of the limb and say that thought probably doesn’t come up often. Maybe that’s why if presented an opportunity to do it all over again we profess to rather not changing anything. Maybe it has been so hard to get where we are we don’t want to take a chance on doing it differently. Or maybe we’re just plain old selfish.

The next time you wonder if you had to it all over again, if that opportunity to relive an hour of your life were to come again, would you do anything different? You’ll get your chance again about a year from now. Think about that that the next time you wish you had a do over.

 
 

Time Out!

Michael 4 Comments
“I have to go, I’m running late. Actually I’m running in time. You know what I mean.” And my daughter knew exactly. If you’re on time, you’re late. That was a snippet of a conversation before I set off for a doctor’s appointment this morning. Even in these days of reduced time and extra spacing in the waiting room, and for some doctors not even opening the waiting room but waiting in the parking lot, I tend to budget my travel time for a 15 minutes early arrival.
 
Unfortunately my drive time estimating skills are not that good. I plan with the help of four travel windows. Anything within the neighborhood is 15 minutes. If the destination is on my side of town it’s a 30 minute drive. Across town or into a neighboring county and I plan for 60 minutes on the road. Anything farther away than that I take a snack, several bottles of water, stop to fill up the gas tank, and in winter check that the tire chains are in the trunk. Most times this admittedly somewhat bizarre approach has served me well. I’m usually at my destination somewhere within those extra 15 minutes and when I’m outside the window it is almost always with more than 15 minutes to spare. That’s okay, I don’t mind waiting. Then are days like today.
 
The drive to the physician’s office for today’s visit is a legitimate 35 minute drive but it’s on this side of town and thus gets the 30 minute travel window. Hey, I don’t make the rules – well, okay, maybe, um, uh. 
 
StopwatchSo I set off on my 30 minute drive and everything was going fine. Just because I was only a quarter of the way there and I used up 20 of those minutes was no reason to panic. I hadn’t hit the 4 lane highways yet. I could make up that time. And I did. Sort of. I got onto the highway and with one eye on the dash clock, one on the speedometer, one on the road and another on the rear view mirror, I watched my way all the way to the parking lot only 10 minutes late which was still 5 minutes early so I wasn’t on time but I was doing fine. I pulled into a spot, strapped on my mask, tripped over the door sill thingy or whatever it’s called on a car, hit the lock button, rescued the keys from inside, hit the lock about again, and marched to the door. Whew! 
 
And there I read, “To minimize contact in the waiting area please do not enter until 5 minutes before your scheduled appointment time.” 
 
Ah…right on time!
 
 

Laws of Nature, Naturally

Michael 1 Comment
There are only two things in life you have to do … die and pay taxes, hahahaha! How many of us have heard that tired line how many times? Actually one of those things you really don’t have to do. Are you tired of pledging a part of your income in taxes? As of last month there are 15 countries you can move to with no personal income tax*. Remember than the next time you feel the urge to complain about being gouged by the government. As for the dying part of the grand equation, well, yeah that is something you can put on your bucket list and be sure of accomplishing.
 
Don’t think though that because we’ve eliminated “paying taxes” on the things you must do list that we are down to a single item. There are the laws of nature that neither man nor beast can circumvent. That saying should go “there are only about 3,845 things you have to do” but I’ve often been accused of hyperbole so maybe not that many. But more than two.
 
For instance, you must march along with time. We cannot stop time and until we sign a treaty with the Vulcans sometime in the 23rd century and they share their vast knowledge of astrophysics we won’t be able to slingshot around the sun and go back in time either. However, thanks to the efforts of retail marketing experts we can expand time. Proof is that one day sales now routinely happen over a full weekend and a single day (Cyber Monday) can last a whole week and another (Black Friday) now takes up almost what was once an entire month. Although marketers have been improving the concept, the idea of time expansion is not new and was first developed by the United States government with the Uniform Monday Holiday Act of 1975 which stretched paltry 24 hour celebrations of key historical events over 3 days eliminating those pesky workdays between weekends and an extra day off for the holidays that had the nerve to land on a Tuesday, Wednesday, or Thursday in certain years. 
 
An immutable law of physics is the conservation of matter which states that mass is a constant which cannot be created nor destroyed, but it can change shape or form. This is especially well documented around the holidays when the goodies on that Christmas cookie tray change from the shape of a Santa on his sleigh to the shape of your ever growing midsection. This law also governs why post New Years Resolution diets fail. You can eat all the celery you want but a pound of vegetables is still a pound and when you gobble it up that pound must be reformed into something else, most likely your waist.
 
ChristmasLights
Some things, again most noticeable during this holiday season, seem to defy this law. It is well documented that any new set of Christmas tree lights once removed from their package and placed on the tree then removed from the tree at the end of the season expands in size and never fit into the original packaging again. If matter cannot be created from where is this excess stuff transferred? I suggest you take a look at some of the most common chocolates you fill those Christmas candy dishes with. Those pound bags of colorfully wrapped Hershey’s Kisses are steadily shrinking, this year down to a trim 11 ounces. They aren’t the only ones who suffer when lights, garland, and even extension cords outgrow their storage cartons. Even the niche traditional candies are being downsized in a heroic effort to maintain the conservation of matter. The Italian delight LaFlorentine torrone is down to boxes of 7-1/2 ounces and Terry’s chocolate oranges once a proud half pound now weigh in at a hair over 6 ounces.
 
The other constant in life may be noticed only by fathers with children getting their first bikes this Christmas but is valid year round and is not gender exclusive. That is a new law of nature, the law of actual assembly time (LAAT). This applies to all toys with the back of the box fine print “some assembly required” as well as to DIY home improvement projects and with appropriate extrapolation, to luggage retrieval times at airports with more than one gate. The LAAT states to determine the actual assembly time multiply the given estimate by 3 and adjust with an additional 5% for every tool required, known as the tool locating variable. (For luggage retrieval substitute “TSA approved lock used” for “tool required.” If locks are not TSA approved actual retrieval time approaches infinity).
 
So you see there are more absolutes than death and taxes, even in The Bahamas.
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*Countries with no personal income tax, in case you are planning a big move sometime in the future. (You probably will notice some of these places are potential paradises while others don’t get so high a AAA travel rating. Of the most desirable places what you save on taxes may end up going to buy a quart of milk. Probably another one of those absolute laws –  The Law of You Get What You Pay For.)
 
Bahamas
Bahrain 
Brunei
Cayman Islands
Kuwait 
Maldives 
Monaco
Nauru 
Oman
Qatar
Saint Kitts and Nevis
Somalia 
United Arab Emirates 
Vanuatu 
Western Sahara

It’s the Most Unwonderful Time of the Year

Michael 12 Comments

It’s time for my annual “Woe is me” party. I figure I have lots of reasons to celebrate my misfortunes. A rare weird disease, cancer, blood clots, lack of mobility, dialysis. Too much plaid in my wardrobe. The list goes on. But those are everyday disasters and things that almost everybody else will go through. Maybe not all of them or the ones you someday experience not all at once. But these are the things people deal with. And I deal with them pretty well. I have good family and good friends and a good medical team to help me along.

But all the help and support from family members and dialysis nurses won’t change the fact that on Wednesday I’m going to wake up alone. There will be no card taped to the bathroom mirror, they’ll be no second place setting at breakfast (and that’s a shame because I’m planning on a traditional Eggs Benedict with my own Hollandaise), there’ll be no impromptu dancing in the living room in front of an open window for the world to see that old people can still love.

I suppose old people still love. I see them. I know some who are seemingly doing all the right things. Maybe that’s it. Seemingly. In my experience, getting old did not help in the still loving department.

Broken_Heart_Pose_(1)First there was the ex. Forgive me for being so old fashioned here but by “ex” I shouldn’t have to explain ex what. It kills me when people refer to someone they dated three times as their ex. That’s a “guy or girl I dated.” Or someone they saw for almost a year. That’s an “old boyfriend.” By the way there is no “old girlfriend.” Just someone “I used to spend time with” accompanied by a wistful look into nowhere. But no, these people aren’t exes. There has to be something that existed to be exed out of. To me “ex” will always and only be an ex-wife. Or husband depending on your point of view.

Anyway, first there was the ex. We weren’t that bad when we were. We had our moments but then we also had our moments. It was hard getting together in the 70’s. Things were expensive. Money was expensive. It was not a time of destination weddings and yearly two week tropical vacations, new cars, new houses, or new tires no matter how much the mechanic whined they weren’t going to pass inspection next time. We’ll worry about it then. And that was pretty much how we got though out first 10 years. Worrying about it then. And then by the next 10 years we didn’t have to worry so much. Cars were newer. Houses were big enough that the daughter could have her own room with lots of space to spare. Plans were made and met and new ones thought up. One plan that caught us off guard was that I planned on turning 40 and she didn’t. So when I did and she should have soon followed there was lots of holding back and plans changed. Eventually my 40 turned 45 and her never ending 39 regressed to 30 and the 15 years difference was too much for her.

comforting__hearttle_6__by_domobfdi-d7186dwYears went by and I would meet a somebody now and then in between being dad and homemaker. Single parenting isn’t much fun for the male set either in case you’re wondering. Eventually a new she entered and if she wasn’t perfect, she was just right. Right enough that space could be made for her. We danced and swam and festivaled. We visited places from northern falls to tropical islands and enjoyed time in farm markets and art studios. Plans were made and met and new ones thought up. One plan that caught us off guard was that I planned on getting cancer (well, part of me did but didn’t bother to tell the rest of me until it was too late) and she planned on me always being the same. So when I did and the cure necessitated removing some parts of me, and some of those parts were the parts that impart a certain amount of masculinity to maleness, and plans changed. We struggled a bit until the phone call that spoke of things wanted and things able and they weren’t the same things. And then sometime in our 8th, maybe 9th, could have been 10th year, the new she began to become someone I used to spend time with.

So twice bitten I’ve had no will to risk adding even a girl I used to date to my record. The desire, yes. The will, no. I’d love to have someone warm to hold close at night or to slog through mud tracked roads leading to the demonstration area at the maple festival. Someone to see the old ships of New England and the old houses of the Old Country. Or someone to sit next to and read a book for the fourteenth time and for the thirteenth time to explain that it’s OK to reread a book. Or someone to share an Eggs Benedict then dance with in front of a window

Nope, not the most wonderful week of the year for me. But that’s ok. There are 51 others to amuse me. I’ll be back to normal sometime next week.

 

Images by Picquery

Timely yet Priceless

Michael 2 Comments

Have you changed your clock back yet? If you’re somewhere where that happens, of course. If you’re not, then you shouldn’t have, so don’t now. I’m of two minds when it comes to these twice yearly time changes. Now the two minds aren’t I like it but I don’t like it. It’s the rule so I’m going to do it and not let my personal feelings intrude on my appropriate completion of this task. Like coming to a complete stop before making a right turn on red, particularly in the face of oncoming traffic. I might not like it but it’s what we’re supposed to do and not liking it out loud isn’t going to change that.

I don’t understand why Arizona doesn’t follow Daylight Savings Time. Hawaii, Guam, Puerto Rico, Samoa, and the US Virgin Islands don’t either but they’re isolated from the rest of the country so if they want to follow what their closest neighbors do, that makes sense. Arizona doesn’t. Oh sure, Arizonans didn’t have to wonder should I change my clock before I go to bed on Saturday or after I wake up on Sunday, but is that a fair exchange for being out of sync with their border state neighbors all summer long and tuning in for the 6:00 news an hour early for six months?

SlowClock

Anyway, my two minds are when to actually make the change. Nobody in their right mind is going to wake up at 2:00 am just to reset various timepieces. I certainly wouldn’t and I’m not necessarily that right in my mind. Besides, I not only wouldn’t but I couldn’t. I have other things to do when I change my clocks and I need to be alert which I certainly am not in the middle of the night. So that leaves the day before or the day after.

Typically I change my clocks before I go to bed. But not right before. If I waited till then I’d forget. So I change them when I think about it or hear or read a reminder. Usually that’s around 5 in the afternoon. That’s what time I changed them 2 days ago. Then for the next 6 hours I wondered every time I looked at a clock what time it really was. Since the computers and phones magically change themselves in the middle of the night I didn’t touch them. That meant that none of the clocks in the room matched the times on my cell phone and tablet which are my ever present recliner companions. And worse than that, the TV listings didn’t match the clock next to the TV. I’ve been changing my own clocks for over 40 years and I go through this dilemma twice a year every year. Next year I think I might wait until I wake up on Sunday to change them and see what happens.

By the way, tomorrow is a noteworthy if not outright special day for The Real Reality Show Blog. On November 7, 2011, I posted the first of now close to 600 posts. Except for a few months when I was in the intensive care unit at the local get well center, I got a post out every Monday and Thursday for six whole years – with an occasional off schedule day tossed in to keep you on your toes. And during all that, this amazing feat has been brought to you for nothing more than your energy to connect and your desire to read.

I want to thank you for your support and continued readership. It is only with that support that this blog is and always will be free. And worth every penny.

 

Getting Even

Michael Leave a comment

It’s time to do it again. This Saturday we go through the twice yearly resetting of the clocks returning from Daylight Saving Time to Standard Time, reclaiming the hour lost six months ago. Almost 3/4 of the world move their clocks back and forth each spring and fall so there’s little I can say to add to people’s already well-rehearsed feat. That didn’t stop me from chipping my 17 cents (inflation) into the pot a handful of times already but I was certain it would be enough to stop me from a sixth time. And it would have been but for an article I saw in yesterday’s paper. (Now that I think about it, quite a few of my most recent posts have been prompted by something I saw in the paper. I wonder what that says about me, other than that I still get my news from the paper?)

changeclockAlthough I’ve poked fun at our semi-annual temporal shifts, this particular article that I read was quite serious about the effects of, and tips to adapt to, the change in time, comparing it to the effects of jet lag. Uh, hello. We’re talking about an hour, not having to deal with the effects of not sleeping through a flight from New York to Brussels. Is it really necessary to go to bed 15 minutes earlier each night for 4 nights so that by Saturday we’ll not subject ourselves to the drama of shifting an entire hour as a single event? I seem to recall quite a few nights in my life when I went to bed an hour earlier or later, or mornings when I arose an hour after or before I intended and life still went on. I can tell because my life went on.

The author suggested that a consequence of the fall time change is a greater number of accidents because people stay up later, sometimes drinking, and end up driving sleepier or more intoxicated. Again, we’re talking an extra hour, not an extra evening, and I’m certain there are many, many more people spending this extra hour at home in bed rather than imbibing in an extra fall cocktail. As far as those who are out and about guzzling pumpkin ales at 2 o’clock this Sunday morning, I really don’t think this Sunday morning is going to be unique among Sunday mornings for them and we should be thankful that we’re one of the many, many more who spent that extra hour in bed.

I may be all wrong about this but I think that the greatest consequence to the time change is that some people will forget to re-set their clocks and will end up an hour early for church this Sunday. Perhaps those folks can spend that extra time there praying for the roustabouts who spent an extra hour socializing the night before.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

In The Dark

Michael Leave a comment

I was on the road around 7:30 in the evening the other day and I noticed something. It was almost dark. It hadn’t yet turned into Fall and it was already dark before prime time television began. You do realize what that means. Don’t you? Yes, another time change is coming.

When I saw that the cars around me had their headlights on and it was only 7:30, I flashed on what it would be like only six short weeks from now. We go through this every fall. On the last Saturday of October we will turn our clocks back an hour, gaining an hour of sleep that night but losing many, many hours of sanity as the trade-off. That’s because you can’t be sane when it gets dark before the six o’clock news comes on. Or in the deepest throes of winter, before the five o’clock news comes on! The only good thing about this year will be that I won’t be leaving for work in the morning and coming home in the evening, both ways in darkness. Little consolation that will be only because I won’t be working. Instead I’ll get to sit at home and see how short the day really is as those few daylight hours march on. And march on they will, quickly, and too few of them, until March when we get to reset our clocks to DST (Daylight Saving Time or as I prefer Daylight Sanity Time).

This blog is loaded with posts on time changes. Why we change our clocks, why we change them back, who doesn’t go through this ritual, and other thoughtful answers for inquisitive minds. There are so many I can’t list them here. If you’re interested, type in Daylight Saving Time into the search box on the home page and pick a couple to review. I’ll give you a synopsis here. I don’t like it. I don’t like reverting to Standard Time every fall.

After the last Saturday of October there’ll be nothing fun left to do but wait for Daylight Saving Time to return. Ok, there will be Christmas. And New Years. And Thanksgiving. And Groundhog Day. Mustn’t forget Groundhog Day. But otherwise, the fun will be done until spring springs ahead into Daylight Saving Time and we recapture the evening sun.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?