And the Clock Strikes Two

 Here we are, having the same desultory conversation about switching our clocks ahead or behind at 2 am, which I fully contend, and have contended for many years, is a colossal mistake. As I have often preached, the change ought to occur on Wednesday at 3 pm, if it must occur at all. Why Wednesday at 3 pm, you ask? Stay with me here, and just think about it: it’s Wednesday. To the working world, Wednesday is the ignoble hump day, the past weekend is the dream of a memory and the weekend ahead is too far away to claim, so what better day than Wednesday to move the clock’s time. If it’s time to spring ahead, then everyone at the office is elated because they get to go home earlier than anticipated that morning. “Hey, it’s four o’clock, almost time to go home; cool”. No one can be unhappy about leaving the office sooner. And if the clock tolls backward, then it’s just another long and dreary Wednesday hump day, with the coming weekend still a bridge too far but everyone looks better in a dark bar at 5 pm when it finally arrives.

Historically, the move to turn the clock back and forth took place for a myriad of reasons, none of which are relevant today; war, crops, vampires, etc., who knows, who cares. Here’s the story in a ‘back to the future’ moment. Many many years ago, when I was a struggling neophyte paralegal wandering the halls of the oh so tony and legendary law firm of Gibson, Dunn & Crutcher I would often posit my theory of moving the clock on Wednesday at 3 pm to whomever would listen and while I was often indulged and patted on the head with my adorable premise, no one took me seriously. Then came the day that William French Smith was about to leave the firm to act as President Reagan’s Attorney General. I happened to share the same elevator with him and, after paying homage, expressed my revolutionary but heartfelt theory on time change. Since he would soon have the President’s ear on all issues, large and small, I took this moment to be my big chance to change the world (even a cat may look at a king). He was somewhat bemused and amused. Sadly, it was a short and swift elevator ride to the garage, which brought my plea to an immediate conclusion. He went off to greatness, I went off in my Toyota.

Time moved on. I soon realized that the President had bigger issues on his mind, like tearing down the Berlin wall, coping with saddle sores and surviving a shooting. However, came the day when the President did not cancel the time change but moved it further up and down the calendar, I took full credit even though it wasn’t entirely my idea to move the hours, the inspiration to do so still was mine; I was certain. Perhaps AG Smith had put in a word on my behalf but the President chose the less drastic measure of moving the change rather than eliminating it altogether. (It could appear here that I have a very rich fantasy life but I believe not.) Unfortunately, accompanying kudos and proclamations did not transpire so, once again, here we are; already it’s after noon and I’m just finishing breakfast.