Sunday, November 6, 2011
Spring forward, fall back. Phooey! I think Daylight Saving Time is kind of silly, and wish we'd just quick messing with Time. I could move to Arizona, where they've stopped trying to outsmart daylight, but I'm happy in Taos, so I pretty much ignore clocks all together, except on the two days a year when I have to try to remember where all the clocks in the house are, and then reset them all one hour in the appropriate direction.
This morning I woke up when the sky was light, like I usually do, and didn't think about the time at all. When Rick mumbled that it was "really" only 6:30, I said, I don't care. I'm awake, to which he replied, I wanna be like you... And we both got up and started the semi-annual Clock Hunt. It's sort of like an Easter Egg Hunt, and as with hidden eggs, even though we're the ones who hid them, there's always one that goes missing.
Fortunately, our computers and phones reset themselves. They're so smart. But astonishingly, I counted ten other clocks that need to be personally reset. Ten? There's a big one on the kitchen wall, above the fridge, plus the one on the stove, which really can't be trusted because the power blips out so often here. There's one on the CD player in the living room. There's one in the bathroom, for days we actually have to be someplace at a certain time, one in the studio, and one on the guest room. We both have watches to reset, although I never wear mine because it interferes with bracelets. And then there are the clocks in our cars. I know Rick's has to be reset by hand, and assume mine does too, but this is my first Time Change since we bought it, so I really don't know. Maybe they're making cars as smart as phones these days. Seems like they could if they wanted to.
Ten clocks. I guess that's all. I could be missing one, but it really wouldn't matter. It won't rot like a stray hard boiled egg, and besides, I rarely look at any of them anyway. So why do we have so many? I'm not sure I know. I think they're kind of pretty, some of them. I lean towards retro-styled clocks, with hands that ease their way through the day. When I need to know what time it is, I prefer saying, Oh, it's about 3:30, rather than, It's 3:27. Digital clocks have their place, but the precision is kind of creepy to me, overkill for my normally casual daily flow. I do what I'm doing until I'm done, and then I do what's next.
Sometimes I look at the clock, and judge where I "should" be in my day, and it always makes me feel like I'm doing something wrong. Should I be finished blogging by a certain time? Should I be in the studio by a certain time? Should I have dinner on the table for my hungry man by a certain time? Yeah, right... It all sounds so crazy to me, but I still fall into the trap occasionally. Sometimes I even come up with an "ideal" schedule for myself, thinking I'll be all kinds of super productive if I just stick to the schedule. That always lasts about half a day, and I go back to my drifting sort of time-keeping.
Ten clocks. I don't know. I think it must be a habit that goes back to those big round clocks on classroom walls. Be on time. Even a little early. Never tardy. Do your work. Move on. I don't have to operate that way anymore, although I'm a little bit obsessed with being on time for appointments, or when I'm meeting someone out in the world. Lateness is a way of life in Taos, and I find it incredibly rude. I think it's a symptom of a self-absorbed society, full of lazy people who can't be bothered to think about anyone but themselves. Harsh? Yes, I know. But in this town, businesses actually advertise, "We show up, and we're on time." That's how bad it is.
So I'm an on-time person who has little use for clocks in my daily life. And still, I have 10 clocks, not including my phone and computer... I think it's time to let some of them go. Imagine all the time I'll save, twice a year, when I don't have to hunt all over the house for all those hidden "eggs." Oh, and I just remembered where the missing one is hiding... it's on the DVD player, inside the lovely Mexican armoire the TV lives in. This means I have eleven clocks to reset, but I will not even attempt to change that last digital menace, and I promise to never look at it.
at 9:03 AM