It's About Time

I am on record as a non-supporter of the return to Daylight Saving Time.
Not just the three weeks earlier version we just went through this weekend. Ever. I don’t buy it—the idea that you save energy by spinning your clock forward one hour, so that you’re getting up an hour before the chickens still do.

Here’s why: Most of us burn a lot of juice just getting ready for work each morning. Now that more of you are doing it in the dark, you’re running the lights earlier, right?

We’re still going to run the TV, dishwasher, and clothes dryer, and I don’t know a soul that’s not going to still stay up late enough to catch David Letterman’s Top Ten List.
So no gains are made in that department.

Gasoline prices have jumped again at the pump.
Know why? More demand, as the "longer dyalight" hours provide more time to drive around in your car.
Sheesh.

Instead of an energy conserving policy, we’ve been inflicted with another government mandate about how we should live our lives, including when to get up the morning.

It took me an hour to adjust all the clocks in the house and cars yesterday…about what I “gained” by springing forward.

In three weeks, we’re going to have to double check our computers to make sure the “fix” we were given for this weekend holds through that weekend. More wasted time and concern.

One of my more anal employees actually wanted to get up at 4:30a this morning, just to be sure things were working when we signed on. I applaud the zeal; I deplore the exploitation of her anal retentiveness.

There are lots of stories in the news this week about how the world is going to hell in a handbasket because of alleged global warming, a feared global drought, and the extinction of species because mankind is messing with Mother Earth.

I shudder to think what’s going to happen if we don’t stop screwing with Father Time.