It wasn’t the rain, although we have had about 8.3-inches of the stuff since the hurricane remnants blew through here last week – and in fact there are still some low-lying parts of Texas with standing water from it.
Nor, was it the bother of Halloween. We are so far out at the ‘end of the string’ that we have never in the 12-years we have been here, had a single door-knocker asking for a sugar rush.
Admittedly, I thought about dropping by my dentist’s place to knock, but it’s a long drive and I’m lazier than it seems.
Similarly, my anguish was not sitting in front of a computer trying to correct errors in my novel. Like the Herculean task of cleaning out the stables of the gods, this just seems to go on, and on, and on… The pass through the book this weekend was to remove a number of “F”-bombs” – though the people in the book still use the eff-word. It just sounds less like a pimp convention and more like television.
This weekend also saw the spacing of chapter titles repaired and typically George-like sentences (that can run a paragraph or two between periods) broken up into as many as five smaller sentences.
Several of the early readers mentioned that. Fine.
None of these items was hard to deal with. At least if you’ve had a decent night’s sleep. Which, in turn, gets us to the point.
In theory we should all have had an extra hour of sleep on Sunday morning. Not here, though.
I made the mistake of thinking the problem through and decided to stay up an hour later on Saturday night so I would wake naturally an hour later.
No. The Circads – a tribe of vicious trolls that owns the Circadian Rhythm franchise – wouldn’t stand for it.
They ensured that I still woke up at exactly 4:00 A.M .(*which is now 3:00 A.M.) and that was that. Result? I was tired all day Sunday because in reality I’d only gotten seven-hours of sleep.
I even went to far as to spill a whole cup of coffee on my computer keyboard to prove how incapacitating the whole sham of made-up time is. The Circads laughed their asses off.
This morning, it’s even worse. I stayed up until 8:30 last night. All to no avail. The “alarm brain” went off at 3:00 A.M. regardless. When I explained to myself that the clock works the other way and could I go back to sleep until the old 5 A.M. the logical brain spooled up and a half-hour discussion of the silliness of made-up time followed. Mental brick-bats were flying until the reset alarm finally ended 12-rounds of despair.
Elaine and I have done a good bit of traveling over the past 15+ years. On the east coast, life is really good because when the ‘alarm brain’ goes off, it is a reasonable hour. Our hotel, for example, when we went to the National Newspaper Columnists convention in Hartford a couple of years back, was serving breakfast when the mid-column munchies showed up. Marvelous thing, that.
On the other hand, here in a week-and-a-half, we are off to the wilds of Las Vegas, where the clocks will be two hours against me.
The Circads have promised I will still be getting up at the same time. But the city around me won’t. When I publish at our customary 8 A.M. time here (Central time) Las Vegas is still trying to figure out where to plug in the coffeemaker. The Circads are deeply offended and promise revenge.
The senseless ad-hoc adjusting of time from “standard” to “daylight savings” should be done away with. Give the Circads their due.
If kids need a little more light, then start school later – and hold the same time year round.
I’ve often wondered about the problems alternate-reality time causes in law enforcement. And which 2 A.M. did the bars close by Saturday? The Circads have kept me tied up and unable to venture out to investigate. Like Gulliver and the Lilliputians, the Circads are more clinical in their application of misery.
If the people in Aridzona was another couple of hours to BBQ, then let them take off work early. Go in early to make up for it. Just don’t shovel it off my me! If there is more danger driving at night, then start work later. How hard is that?
You see how this works? Let’s stop kidding ourselves. We’re already a nation of deluded idiots (look who we put in office if you don’t believe it).
The British used their “royal powers” to decree the hour of the day so in addition to a big noisy clock, they also proclaimed the “prime meridian” to run through the nation, as well. It’s all a head trip.
Do you really think when TSHTF that clocks will matter? Know of any prepping articles on “how to keep time going past the revolutionary collapse?” Not no. Hell no.
The heck of it is that the swifty-Brits with their time scams have ensnared virtually all chart makers to this day with their pompous, measure everything this far West of Greenwich or that far East FMTT…doesn’t anyone besides me see it? It’s all a power trip.
Think about it from a marketing standpoint, it gives the British much credit for being the center of the “time-verse” that is no longer deserved.
I will grant you that running the longitude would not have been possible without John Harrison’s remarkable contribution of the H5 chronometer. A fine thing from a self-educated carpenter and clockmaker.
You’ll notice that he was not royal when he worked his greatness. We see (in marketing terms) however, how often when someone does something exceptional, the royals “invite people into their club.” Harrison received the Copley Medal. As far as I know, he didn’t even get a “Sir” out of it. Conversely, Alan Greenspan was knighted. There! That reveals something about how the club works.
I’d like to propose two things to you this morning: First that daylight time go down the road. That should be simple enough. Then secondly,. we could light off a huge worldwide economic flurry by moving the international date line where it belongs: Out in the middle of a non-partisan ocean somewhere so that one country, or other, doesn’t use it for political advantage.
Run it from pole to pole and in water deep enough so’s China won’t build an island on it.
Think of all the jobs that could be created by doing things like re-mastering all the DVD’s for car navigation systems alone! We would have boater charts, a mad rush to hire cartographers to put “the new” numbers of maps, and the same for aircraft. It would be an economic bonanza.
As logical as it is to stick to one time – I’m an adherent of a global time too – we are no doubt going to do the same silliness next spring. And that will screw me up again.
I’m not an absolutist on this: If we are really commemorating time with a prime meridian, then let’s move it to Washington and run the prime meridian through the Pentagon because the U.S. Department of Defense developed GPS and the related ultra-accurate timekeeping that system required.
Or, through the an average of the home towns of these guys:
U.S. Department of Defense (DoD) developed the system, which originally used 24 satellites. It became fully operational in 1995. Bradford Parkinson, Roger L. Easton, and Ivan A. Getting are credited with inventing it.
Parkinson’s home town was Madison, Wisconsin. Easton was from Craftsbury, Vermont, while Ivan Getting hailed from NYC. A prime meridian through Wall St. would be an easy sell, wouldn’t it|?
As long as we’re at it, can we please get rid of magnetic north? Obsolete thinking. No longer relevant. Same the money spent renumbering runways, while you’re at it.
Thus, in closing, I propose to you that daylight time is just another example of American gullibility. Acceptance of daylight time seems to parallel the introduction of fluoride into water supplies, but that could just be my odd way of thinking about things.
Fact: We make up time – over-emphasize its importance – and then wonder how we all end up living in a nation of stressed-out, time-savaged, elevated blood pressure self medicated delusionists.
It’s OK to go in to work a little later or leave earlier if the traffic is bad or you just feel like lighting off the BBQ or playing with the kids. As long as you get the job done for which you’ve been hired, can we ditch the power-tripping and micro management minutia? If the work is done, screw it: Go play.
Oh, no. Not here. We’re a nation of really stupid clock-suckers
Is It Time Yeti?
Remember the Yeti – a/k/a/ abominable snowman?
Here’s a really interesting report from the BBC suggesting (if my time-addled brain is still functional) that the reason we have not had a lot of reports of the abominable snowman (Yeti)_ of late is that people in that part of the world are not going to the mountains as much anymore.
Until a cellular carrier finds a big enough market of ‘em.
Point is here’s a great story to unfold in a novel. Imagine for a moment that the world government (e.g. U.N.) has actually been handed an ultimatum from a consortium of Yeti’s, snowmen, and Skin-Walkers.
For an even better novel, toss in some of the breakaway Nazi survivors who took subs out of Europe at the end of WW II.
What if that – not environmental largess – is what’s behind all this Agenda 21 and closing down public lands to the public that’s going on? A negotiated peace. Hmmm…
I’m off to battle the Circads. They seem to fear coffee.
Write when you break-even,