My fall-back position
My thoughts on daylight saving time, summarized in two sentences:
I hate springing forward. I love falling back.
In fact, I think it's a shame that "falling back," the procedure of reversing our clocks by one hour on the last Sunday of October, only occurs once each year. I think that I ought to be able to fall back any time I darn well please.
If I get to bed late one night, and know that I have critical work to accomplish in the morning, I should be allowed to fall back, and snag an extra hour of sleep. Likewise on nights when I've come home late from a chorus or quartet rehearsal, or stayed up into the wee hours to watch a really cool movie on HBO, or got engrossed in a real pageturner of a book that I just couldn't put down, or burned a vial or two of midnight oil catching up on an impending deadline.
But of course, the idiots in Congress who oversee the whole daylight saving time debacle care nothing for my personal needs. They listen far more to some activist corn farmer in Nebraska or a gang of energy conglomerate executives than they do to little old insignificant me.
Next year, of course, they're fiddling with the range of daylight saving time yet again. Thanks to the Energy Policy Act of 2005, beginning in 2007 daylight saving time will commence on the second Sunday in March and conclude on the first Sunday in November (as opposed to the present regimen, which started on the first Sunday in April and ends tomorrow morning).
Not that anyone bothered to ask me.
I hate springing forward. I love falling back.
In fact, I think it's a shame that "falling back," the procedure of reversing our clocks by one hour on the last Sunday of October, only occurs once each year. I think that I ought to be able to fall back any time I darn well please.
If I get to bed late one night, and know that I have critical work to accomplish in the morning, I should be allowed to fall back, and snag an extra hour of sleep. Likewise on nights when I've come home late from a chorus or quartet rehearsal, or stayed up into the wee hours to watch a really cool movie on HBO, or got engrossed in a real pageturner of a book that I just couldn't put down, or burned a vial or two of midnight oil catching up on an impending deadline.
But of course, the idiots in Congress who oversee the whole daylight saving time debacle care nothing for my personal needs. They listen far more to some activist corn farmer in Nebraska or a gang of energy conglomerate executives than they do to little old insignificant me.
Next year, of course, they're fiddling with the range of daylight saving time yet again. Thanks to the Energy Policy Act of 2005, beginning in 2007 daylight saving time will commence on the second Sunday in March and conclude on the first Sunday in November (as opposed to the present regimen, which started on the first Sunday in April and ends tomorrow morning).
Not that anyone bothered to ask me.
Labels: Taking Umbrage
SwanShadow was randomly pounding the keyboard at 10:19 PM
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