Does anyone really need to know the time?

– Random Writings: Column by Rebecca Lindquist –

I have never been a huge fan of Daylight Saving Time in the fall. I appreciate not waking up to complete darkness, but I don’t like how rapidly it gets dark in the evening. The minute I get home from work and sit down, I tend to fall asleep.

I swear, I suffer from sunlight deprivation, not to be confused with Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD). Once fall hits, I tend to go into winter mode, and prefer to just stay home and sulk. As if early darkness isn’t stressful enough, there’s the whole “changing all clocks in your possession” fiasco. It’s not that difficult, or shouldn’t be, but there’s always some hitch that crops up during my attempts.

The first clock I tackled was the analog kitchen clock, which I still harbor resentment against from springing forward in March, when, after successfully establishing the correct time, I reached to hang it back in place and apparently missed the nail. The clock went flying, as I made a grab for it with my functioning hand and bobbled it multiple times, before it crashed to the floor.

I just stood with shoulders slumped, looking forlornly down at it for a few minutes, before I worked up the courage to gingerly turn it over and assess the damage. There was a long crack spanning diagonally across the face, from top to bottom, and surprisingly, it was happily ticking away, blissfully unaware that anything was amiss.

I was impressed it continued to keep time, and incorrectly assumed this time would just be a quick battery change. I popped the old battery out, inserting the new one in record time, then, as I hung it up, realized the hour hand was gleefully swaying back and forth. I researched the Internet and found a tutorial, guaranteeing an easy fix within 20 seconds.

I’m sure that’s true…assuming it’s openfaced, unlike mine, which has a dome covering the hands. I retrieved the newly installed battery, tossed the offending upstart in the trash and continued to the next timepiece, which was a quartz clock.

It was an easy battery transfer, much to my relief, but when I set it back in place, I noticed the clock was no longer ticking and the second hand was frozen to the dial face. Sigh. I was two-fortwo, so far, in the non-working category. The next culprit was a small digital Timex. This little powerhouse is older than the hills, but has proved to be completely reliable.

The only drawback, it requires two hands, to depress the buttons, to change the date and time, but I’m stubborn and where there’s a will, there’s a way.

The last clock was a digital cube, which also requires more than one hand to easily change the timestamp. I must have monkeyed around with that darn thing for a good 45 minutes, before I finally figured out how to change the information. It originally belonged to my daughter, Hannah, so I had no instructions and I’m obviously not tech savvy.

I have to admit, I was feeling rather smug after conquering it, through trial and error. My euphoria was short-lived, as later that night, as I was walking past the diabolical cube, I was shocked to see it displaying military time. What in the blue blazes?

I learned military time in elementary school, but it’s too early in the morning when I get up, to math. Han will have to remedy that, the next chance she gets.

Fortunately, cell phones automatically update and I don’t care if the car clock never gets changed, it will eventually be correct again in the spring. In March of this year, the U.S. Senate passed legislation that would make Daylight Saving Time permanent, starting in 2023, though whether this actually takes place, remains to be seen; but, in retrospect, I’m not sure I’m wholly against the idea.

It may be the solution I’m seeking to preserve my sanity, twice a year, by not having to cope with persnickety timepieces.

A pox on clocks that tend to be the bane of my existence.