As some comedian once said, the principle behind Daylight Savings Time is the same as the belief that you can get taller by cutting off your head and then standing on it.
[pause to let that visual dissipate]
Let me tell you why I hate this bloody nonsense with a passion.
- We have, in our little abode, well over a dozen clocks which do not self-adjust like laptops or smartphones do (I like and collect clocks). This means that twice a year I have to prowl around the house like a hyena seeking a dead zebra, rooting out clocks and changing the damn hour hand or else pushing buttons on electric alarm clocks etc. “Pain in the ass” barely begins to cover it. And somehow, I always manage to miss one, which causes me aggravation later (could be a week later) when I discover the omission.
- Because we are an international family, with friends and family scattered all over the globe, I have had to resort to stern measures to keep up with this situation, ergo a wall decoration in the living room:
I think you can see the problem, can’t you? The U.S. and the U.K. change their times on different dates, South Africa only uses one time (gawd knows how much they’d fuck up changing clocks and times… they operate on “African time” as it is), and as for Australia it’s even worse: some states observe DST while others choose not to.
As I am a man of advanced age, little brain and severe deficiency in patience, I think you’ll get where I’m going with this.
I’m always reminded of the classic exchange from Cheech & Chong:
“Hey, hippie… wanna buy a watch?”
“Uuuhhhhh… no, man; I’m not into time.”
Wish I could be that way.