No, this is not a call to arms for revolutionaries. It is a commentary of the command that we, to
whomever it applies, should ‘set our
clocks back one hour at 2:00 a.m. today’.
That is easy for ‘them’ to say, but NOT so easy for (some of)
us to comply. First, I never have any intention of staying awake until, or
waking up at, 2:00 a.m. on the day which my calendar declares: ‘Daylight Saving
Time Ends’. I usually go through the
ritual just before retiring for the night - which is usually about 11:30 p.m. -
on the eve of that day. I say ‘I go through’, but that is not strictly correct.
I ‘begin’ the ordeal at my retirement hour and complete the task at various
times during the day on which ‘DSTE’.
You may have noted that I used the word ‘ordeal’. “Why?” you may ask - if you are curious –
or if still a child and not yet divorced from that most common word of
childhood lines of inquiry. “Heaven
forbid that setting your clock back is ‘an ordeal’”, I can hear my
grandmother (more likely your great-grandmothers) saying. Sure - they probably
only had ONE clock in the darned house! So,
not meaning to be rude, but screw you, granny – I have 43 clocks / timing
devices that need to be adjusted!
You think I lie, but nay! Whilst it is true that 14 of those
do need any action on MY part, adjusted (by the magic of technology) they are.
To wit:
5 cable TV clocks
4 ‘satellite’ phone clocks
2 desk-top computer clocks
2 i-Phone clocks
1 lap-top computer clock
. . . and NO, the partridge in the pear tree is ‘sans
clock’. Now, if that pear tree had a cuckoo init instead of a partridge, we
just might have a different story!
How was your arithmetic when you were in school – pre ‘New
Math’ or ‘Common Core’? I can tell you,
that under this old geezer’s system, you would be able to deduce, in a
nano-second, that 43 minus 14 still leaves an unbelievable 29 time-pieces to be
adjusted! Take this lot, and assume only 7 do NOT need adjusting:
Where to begin to enumerate those 29? As that famous poet, Dylan Thomas, (born 100
years last Tuesday in my home town of Swansea,
Wales) once said, “To begin at the beginning”. Sharp buggers, we Welsh, aren’t
we? Maybe a list and location is the best place:
Top floor of the
house:
Master bedroom:
2 radios, each with digital a clock – ‘digital’ - that
means, LED – no big hand & little hand nonsense, see?
Though infrequently used since I retired, 1 ‘Fax’ (that’s a
modern term for ‘facsimile’ – just go to a dictionary) machine. If you are
still of that childhood mentality, you may ask, “Why is your ‘Fax’ machine in your bedroom?” Aren’t children cute? There was a reason, but I have long forgotten
it – something to do with available phone-jacks, I think
Master Bathroom – 1 battery operated ornamental clock
with Roman Numerals. For the annoying child:
Because when my youngest son lived in our house, it was a subliminal
reminder of just how L-O-N-G he had spent in the shower – or worse, ‘on the
throne’!
The ‘Orange’ Bedroom
– a ‘queen-sized’ bedroom now little used, but reserved for out of town family
and guests – 1 of those clock-radios
The ‘Red’ Bedroom – another rarely used ‘queen-sized’
bedroom - the darkest on the floor, so good for sleeping off a ‘night on the
town’. Has no radio, but does have an alarm clock – it can be unplugged!
The ‘Green’ Bedroom – regrettably, has NO clock (yet)
– but does have two ‘single’ beds
Upstairs bathroom – Nope, no clock (yet) – but if my
son comes back home, I may install one!
Main (Ground) Floor
Kitchen / breakfast Room – the most clock-infested
room in all of Christendom! There are 5
digital clocks winking their uncoordinated numerals at us. The one on the
cooker is red, and looks up at the white display on an ‘under-counter radio/CD
player’ that usually it tends to misplace a minute every week or two. To its
right, is a blue (equally independent time piece) embedded in a coffee maker.
The ‘sink area’ portrays a veritably patriotic, yet un-unified display of time!
On the other side of the kitchen is another red-eyed clock – on that black box
that emits sparks when foil or forks are inadvertently left on the plate
within. On top of it, sits the best thing since sliced bread – the
land-line telephone’s Caller ID and answering machine; the device that affords me to ignore every annoying
telemarketer and ‘robot-caller’ and when they do DO ‘Leave a message after the tone’ - which they rarely do – allows me to see the time at which the annoying bastards placed
their call. Thank God for the Irish – excuse the poor and unintended juxtaposition of
nouns there (honestly, honey!) – but, on the ‘breakfast room’ wall is an
analog, battery operated, 12” dish resplendent with a map of Ireland and a
quiet sweep-second hand – just to remind me, as my wife always does when I beg
haste, that “The Man who made time, made plenty of it!”
The ‘Family Room – next to the kitchen is where we
gather to waste hours upon hours in front of that accursed invention, that the
British affably call the ‘tele’. Just to
be sure we are aware of the quantity of our collected wasted livelihood, on the
mantle above the fireplace, sits a 100+-year old
‘chimes-on-the-quarter-with-one-of-three-selections-for-on-the-hour-melodies’
family heirloom ‘8-day’ clock.
The Living Room – doesn’t everybody have one of those
rooms that nobody ‘lives’ in? We do!
Ours houses a hideous sofa, two large bookcases and – yes, a grandfather
clock! Resplendent with three large ‘dangly things’, a tennis-racket sized
pendulum, an illuminated celestial scene and Roman numerals, it too delicately
chimes every 15-minutes and thunders manfully ‘on the hour’. As with the mantle
clock, at this time of year, the preferred method of ‘setting it back’ one
hour, is NOT to turn the hands counter-clockwise, but to halt the pendulum for
an hour. [In Springtime, a 23-hour hiatus is required.] The Living Room has one
other ‘time piece’ – an electric timer set to turn on / off the illumination of
the celestial scene atop the grandfather’s face. No point burning a bulb after
we have gone to bed, is there?
The Dining Room – yes, another rarely used room – for
dining that is. Its chairs often serve as coat hooks as guests come past it. It
does get used at Thanksgiving and Christmas when it seems we have that crowd
who once feasted on five small fishes and two loaves – aka, our kids and
grand-kids all at once. The room contains other important items – hidden behind
each of two glass cabinets housing Beleek China, Waterford Crystal and other
delicate items waiting to be shattered by tiny inquisitive hands of tiny
grandchildren is an electric timer to turn on/off the low wattage bulbs that
illuminate the quaking items.
Main Hall – that stone-tiled passage from the front
door to the kitchen and Family Room, the only function for which (aside from
housing a clothes closet) is to provide a place for the HVAC’s programmable
humidity-thermostat. Of course, it has a digital clock that had to be adjusted
– in case my comfort level was not attained at the correct hour of the day.
Other main floor rooms - this would include the
‘half-bath’; for non-Americans, this simply means it is a ‘bathroom’ with no
bath; a ‘loo’ (commode) and a sink; except that ours also has – yes, you’ve
guessed it - a battery operated, complete with ‘Roman numerals, clock seated atop
the flush-tank.
Also in this area – sandwiched between the ‘breakfast room’ and
the garage – is the ‘laundry room’. Washer, dryer, storage shelves, plumbed-in
sink – but no clock!
Garage – ah yes, the place wherein nice automobiles
are supposed to reside. Not ours; I leave ours outside where the neighbors have
to suffer the site of the ugly, hail-dented, paint-peeling, fluid-dripping,
rusting carcasses. Besides, the place is filled with trash cans, lawn-tending
equipment, a dart board, tool-bench, junk my kids deposited and failed to
remove - and an old refrigerator for excess beer storage – which I do my daily
best to keep close to emptied. Plus one more item – yes, battery operated –
just to remind me of when it is ‘Beer-30’!
Basement
This is the dungeon from which most of
my musings emerge. It houses scores of books, two desk-top computers (not
exactly labeled ‘His’ and ‘Hers’, but somewhat so), a lap-top and three battery
operated clocks – a large one with a pendulum and Roman numerals,
a small one
with a porcelain lout leaning on a lamp-post
and a medium sized one with a
Guinness logo on it.
There is also a bathroom complete with shower-stall - but
alas, that bathroom has no clock.
Outside
If you had been keeping count, would have
taken off your socks long ago – we are now up to 22 of the 29 that need human
tending. Put those socks back on and venture outside. There, and just inside
the garage door, I have four timers set to illuminate, the trees, shrubs and
other landscape paraphernalia from dusk till midnight. Not only do these need
the bi-annual ‘Saving Time’ adjustments, but also the constant changes in
sunset time. Mercifully, I do have one additional set that is ‘photo-cell’
activated – so it doesn’t count!
Lastly, the 27th,
28th and 29th clocks / timers that need adjustment are
those within our three aforementioned vehicles. My pick-up truck and my wife’s
car each have ‘compliant’ radios – that is, the dials work when pushed or
turned and so their clocks are easily adjusted. On the other hand, MY car is
the one that Adam Sandler had in mind when he penned that famous ‘P.O.S. car’
song of his! Actually, though it looks to every bit a hail-pocked P.O.S. car,
it runs well and was well worth the $500 I spent for it 4 years ago. Its only
problem – aside from the side-to-side cracked windshield, the non-functioning
condenser, and the sticking ignition key is the damned clock! I succeeded only once in 6 or 7 attempts to
adjust the hour on it. I gave up – I accept that is it right for 6 months of
the year; the other 6 months I put masking tape over it so I don’t get
confused! Today, I took the tape off. I
now know what time it really is. I have a new plan for next year – if I still
own it. In Springtime – when it needs adjusting ahead 1 hour. I’ll disconnect
the battery cable for 23 hours; in the Fall, I’ll disconnect it 1 hour. I told
you we Welsh are smart buggers, didn’t I?
But not as smart as the Roman who owned this clock. I guess not only 'tempus', but 'manus' also did the 'fugit' thing!
Maybe I'll move to Arizona, or back to central Indiana, or one of those other places here in the US where they do NOT change their clocks twice a year.
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