Well, I woke up the other morning, only to discover it was an hour earlier than I expected. Yes, it’s the old “fall back” time of the year again, the ushering-in of Standard Time. Seems like it comes sooner now than before. It’s alright, though, it’s only Sunday and there’s nothing good to watch on the “Idiot Box,” unless you’re into baseball. Yawwwn…Excuse me, I must be tired.
Anyway, there’s nothing wrong with baseball. Hey…how about those Boys in Blue, amazing. My cat even enjoyed watching them toss the ball back and forth…Snort…snore… scuze me, I must have dozed off again, must be time for my morning cup of joe.
Ticking away the moments that make up a full day. Fritter and waste the hours in an offhand way, kicking around on a piece of ground in your own hometown. Waiting for someone or something to show you the way. (“Time” – Pink Floyd – From the 1973 “Dark Side of the Moon” album)
I wish they would have one time parameter and stick with it all year long, because it’s really annoying to readjust your sleep schedule every time they switch from Daylight Savings Time to Standard Time and back again, not to mention moving all your clocks forward, or backward, as the case may be. (For the folks in San Berdoo, you don’t have to stay up until 2 a.m. to change your clock.)
No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun and you run to catch up with the rising sun, but it’s sinking, racing around to come up behind you again. The sun is the same in a relative way, but you’re older, shorter of breath and one day closer to death. (Pink Floyd)
Springing forward in March, when Daylight Savings Time kicks in, is also confusing, because when you forget to set your clock ahead one hour, it’s an hour later than you think it is and then you end up getting to work an hour late. Also, when it’s dinnertime, you’re not hungry yet. Maybe I should just move to Arizona where they’re always on Standard Time.
It’s interesting how some folks always show up for work an hour early when we switch to Standard Time because they forgot to set their alarm clock behind one hour…so have another cup of joe.
Every year is getting shorter, never seem to find the time. Plans that either come to naught or half a page of scribbled lines. Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way. The time is gone, the song is over, thought I’d have more to say.
Keep it flyin’,
Uncle Mott
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