Daily Archives: March 8, 2014

Daylight Savings Time is Government-Sanctioned Time Travel


So here we are, at that time of year wherein we have to “give back” the hour that we “gained” back when we fell back in fall.

It’s not for me to say that for the vast majority of the country, the practice is arcane and distracting.  But it did spawn an interesting idea, perhaps and probably influenced by my short story from yesterday.

Time.  Never enough of it, always slipping away.  Sometimes it creeps by and stretches out for miles, other times it’s gone before you can say “Sharknado, I’m late.”  So here, we have this bizarre practice.  A bit of give and take.

In the fall, you get this extra hour.  In the spring, you give it back.

Put aside the fact that the extra hour comes in the middle of the night.  They just say that to throw you off. Time is time, and just like energy, nobody but nobody can destroy it nor create it.  No gain without sacrifice.  No yin without yang.

So we have this extra hour in November because society decides that we do, and then we skip an hour in March to bring balance to the force.  But all we did was move the hands on the clock; we might as well have switched out the labels on our day-of-the-week underwear.  What, you don’t have those?

But what if we actually – really – honest-to-goodness – gained and lost time once every year?  Even if it were just an hour, imagine the possibilities.  You cut a bargain with the gods (or devils) of time.  Sign it in blood, because, you know, that makes it for realsies.  You get to live one hour over again, and then you have to lose out on an hour as payment.  What could be better?  Didn’t kiss that girl at the end of the date?  Go back and try it again, for the low, low price of missing out on an hour in the office.  Got to the bank five minutes after it closed and thus missed your mortgage payment and they’re gonna repossess your house?  No, they’re not, because you just went back in time and cashed that check.  And you just have to give up one hour of sleepytime.  Wanna relive the time you found that $5 bill on the sidewalk and declared it the best day ever?  Knock yourself out.  You only have to skip over the hour when the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Photo Shoot bus broke down in front of your house and all the models had to pile in and borrow your phone and your shower.  Well, you can’t win EVERY time.

But why stop at an hour?  Would you give up a day to try one over again?  How about a week?  A year?  Would you give up a year wearing adult diapers and puttering around the house remembering the good old days to try another year in your twenties and fix everything you screwed up?  Pass on your fifties entirely for the chance to be a teenager again?  Or maybe you could skip over the boring kid years and gain some extra time on the back end.

I think there’s something there.  If time is so insubstantial that we can simply shuffle the board around and say we’re on the same page, then what does it even mean?  Never mind, forget I asked that, let me just go back to watching this video of a dog saying “I love you.”


In which I make a formal introduction to The Blog and The Project (Or, why the F am I doing all this)


A lot of people that know me know that at one time in my life I wrote a play or two (or three or four, or… damn, I actually wrote a hot little handful of plays in my younger and more piss & vinegar filled days), then I stopped. For a while there, I thought it would be neat to turn some of those plays into books. It just didn’t happen. Well, for one reason or another, a fire has cropped up underneath my rear parts and an elf in my brain decided that the time to get around to doing those things is now, like immediately, starting right the hell now today, with no further delay.

In a fit of delusional grandeur or whatever you would like to call it, I decided that I want to write a first draft of a novel by the time school starts up back in the fall. To that end, I’m hoping to write at least a little bit every day between now and then.

To that end, I started my little journal/blog here at wordpress. I doubt it will change your life, but on those days that I just can’t write on The Project, I’m going to make it a point to post at least a little something here to keep exercising my brain meats, and I’ll also be updating it with my progress on The Project, among other things. I’ve already posted a short story there that I wrote today as a bit of a stretching exercise, and will doubtless be posting more stories, maybe as often as weekly. I’m hoping that The Project will lead to other Projects down the road, but for now, I want to follow through on something I’ve always wanted to do.  In the meantime, I’m a teacher, a runner, a father, a husband, and between those things, I end up with a fair few stories and ponderances to write about.

At any rate, I’m glad you’re here checking it out, whether you’re just a little bit literarily inclined, or even if you’re not. Not just because you’re padding my views by landing here (we writers do like to have our egos stroked) but because knowing that there are people besides me taking an interest in what I’m up to will keep me honest and keep me on track, as there are any number of distractions out there to keep me off my goal. I’d also welcome any feedback from anybody on the fiction that I write, because above all I want to improve and I want to write things that people are interested in reading.

So now that you’re here, I hope you’ll give it a look, and if you do, I hope you enjoy it.  Thanks for clicking on me.


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