Daylight saving time flies

Russell Anglin

What a difference an hour makes.

I could care less what the Hawaiians, the Arizonans and the Russians may think about daylight saving time. When it works in my favor, I love it. Setting the clock back one hour Sunday meant an extra hour of sleep and I felt refreshed and vibrant when I woke up.

I looked outside Sunday evening and thought “Oh, no. It’s getting dark already. I better go to bed soon.” Lo and behold, it was only 6:30. This meant another hour of productivity for me, or did I spend the time languishing uselessly in front of my computer? I don’t remember.

Daylight saving time is among Benjamin Franklin’s best ideas, right up there with the glass armonica and making the turkey our national bird instead of the eagle. I still do not understand the appeal of the eagle, with its cold stare and vicious, carnivorous nature. Plus, the turkey is a much tastier bird.

Like many of our Founding Fathers’ ambitious innovations, Franklin’s notion of saving daylight is flawed only because it does not go far enough. The effect of this hour gained will soon be lost on me. Invariably, I waste at least one hour daily on mindless activity, be it staring at my feet, practicing my duck-and-cover technique for a nuclear attack or watching a network television drama.

My proposition is that we practice saving daylight every day, much like we keep the Christmas spirit in our hearts year-round. Why not roll the clocks back an hour each day? Having a free hour on Sunday already improved my Monday. If we can just keep up the habit, untold benefits surely await us.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I am going to write my congressman and put this idea into practice. After all, I have to do something to distract me until lunchtime. Goodness gracious, I was ready to eat an hour ago.

What’s the holdup, already?