THE GREAT GADFLY:

Time, Its Flexing Like A Whore

First off, I don't appreciate losing an hour of sleep. Maybe to SOME sick souls this is acceptable, but to me, it's a god damn TRAVESTY, is what it is. An OUTRAGE. That's an hour of sleep that I'll never get back, you know. If you like losing an hour of sleep, that's your business. Myself, I'm DAMN MAD!

Then, there's the conceptual hell of changing my clock twice a year. Yeah, yeah, I know: Spring Forward, Fall Back. But sometimes I think, wait, maybe it's Fall Forward, Spring Back. Because Fall and Forward have some alliteration going on, and Spring Back is, like, you know - springback heels or something, I don't know. And then I hear them on TV saying "don't forget to set your clocks forward!" and that means nothing to me. When you set your clocks forward, you lose an hour. When you set your clocks back, you gain an hour. So my brain automatically pairs "forward" with "gain" and then I get confused all over again.

Did I mention that I grew up in Indiana, and for most of my life I didn't have to think about this problem? Oh, yes. So NOW, not only do I have to endure the CONCEPTUAL HELL that is switching my clock around twice a year, but now bi-annually, I also have to EXPLAIN IT TO MY MOTHER, who's scarsely ever lived outside of the Hoosier State and still holds the innocent confusion that I once possessed. It takes a few weeks before the reality of our time zones kick in, and I always feel like when we change the clocks, I've done it on purpose simply to vex my poor mama. HONEST, IT'S NOT MY IDEA.

Oh.

And THEN there's the fact that, when I was a little boy, they had to write "LEFT" and "RIGHT" on the toes of my shoes. You can understand how something like this clock diddlin' BS could maybe perhaps just cause me to overheat a titch.

Thankfully, God don't make no junk. And if he did, he certainly wouldn't post it on his refrigerator.