DST

Love it or hate it, the time has come to set our clocks forward for Daylight Savings Time. No doubt my closest friends and relatives are, by now, skipping on to other reading material to save themselves the pain of hearing another one of my DST rants. For those who are still reading this, consider it a public service to my husband. His eyes glaze over every time I bring up this topic and I know he is forced to retreat into his happy place while I foam at the mouth.

I’ve done a little research on the significance of this sadistic adjustment of natural circadian rhythms and it is clear to me that this is a practice that has no innate value other than habit. There are just about as many stories about when and how DST began as there are arguments for and against the changing of the clocks. It is believed that Benjamin Franklin was the first person in the United States to mention the value of changing clocks to save energy, however, an official act of Congress did not occur until the early 20^th century. The theory posited was that electricity was saved when there is less light in the morning and more in the evening. After all, most people are sleeping in every morning so why waste daylight on the early risers?

My father, a farmer, was not a big fan of DST. His work hours were dictated by the needs of livestock and crops, not necessarily the clock. He always said DST was the invention of city folks so they could take their boats out and go fishing later into the evening. Imagine my surprise, when I discovered that my city friends claimed that farmers invented DST. They believed that farmers wanted the extra daylight hours so they could spend more time in the field. News flash. Tractors have lights. No extra daylight needed.

I would dare guess that parents with small children would also appreciate the abolition of DST. It takes a great deal of effort and finesse to cultivate a sleeping schedule for the little ones. Removing an hour from their sleep regime means a lot of grumpy folks under one roof. It can take weeks to develop an acceptable routine again. Never mind the pets scratching at your door early in the morning, demanding your attention because they never learned to read a clock.

It is no surprise that statistics indicate that there are more accidents the week following the beginning of DST. Groggy folks desperately slurp coffee on their way to work in the dark. Reflexes are dulled from the loss of REM time. Those of us with fragile circadian wiring and tenuous sleeping habits are now deemed a public hazard. It is probably best for some of us not to make any big decisions until April.

Despite its dubious value, I’m afraid DST is here to stay. World peace, jobs and the price of a barrel of oil will always be more important issues in Congress than setting our clocks forward once a year. I guess my only hope is to retire to Arizona or Hawaii. They have the good sense to stay off the DST train track and keep their clocks ticking along without interference.

Maybe, that is why Hawaii is called the land of paradise.