Today is March 6. The first few days of March always rank highly on my Happiest Days of the Year list. My mood is elevated even more than usual, my walk is more jaunty, and there is an excited gleam of anticipation in my eye. True, there are no major holidays during the first couple weeks of March. Nor does my birthday fall in said days. So what's so great about this time span?
Well amigos, the beginning of March marks one of the most (if not THE most) under-appreciated days of the calendar year: the start of daylight saving time (DST). I'll spare you the day's interesting history, with its ties to standard time zones, the early U.S. railroad industry, the World Wars, farming, and debated legislation, but if you're a history geek like me, click here.
To most of us, the start of DST marks the beginning of the warm months. It announces that spring is on its way. That flowers will soon bloom. That if we hang on for just a little longer, we will be rewarded with a long break from school (if you're no longer in school, sorry. But neenor neenor). It brings daydreams of the possible layouts of your backyard garden- O, what wonderful vegetables and flowers you'll plant this year! It marks the coming end to your impossibly pale skin. And you better put "clean the ol' bbq" on this week's to-do list, as you can almost smell the burgers, sirloins, hot dogs and kabobs grilling to perfection as you enjoy that ice-cold Pacifico on your patio.
But perhaps those who benefit most from DST are kids (or those of us still kids at heart). In retrospect, when the day finally came in which it didn't get dark outside pretty much right after you got home from school, it was cause for celebration. There was a certain poetic beauty to the abruptness of gaining an extra hour of daylight, and the long process of the days thereafter stretching out ever-so subtly, until that 9 p.m. sundown suddenly surprised you. Every year you knew it would happen, yet every year it seemed to come out of nowhere. Then you'd look back on those short winter days and the feeling of being blessed would wash over you, as if God breathed those extra hours of light and warmth into summer just for you.
Seemingly limitless evenings of kick the can, sardines, roller hockey, soccer. Basketball, baseball, football, any other "-ball" you can possibly name. Skateboards, rollerblades, scooters, bikes. Clubhouses made of every piece of stray plywood you could find. Climbing trees with the Popsicle stick switchblades you ever-so-craftily engineered and sharpened. Barefeet. Tank tops. Sneaking down to the candy store with the coins you found in the couch cushions, and having to hide your new stash in the garage so mom wouldn't find out. Otterpops. Hide and seek. The possibilities were endless.
(Yes, I did grow up in a completely middle-class, 1960s-like, Sandlot-ish, classic neighborhood. That whole aforementioned paragraph is written strictly from experience).
Perhaps after spending my first winter in a place where the temperature reaches well below the 60-degree (at their coldest) California winter days I'm used to, I have a feeling I'm going to appreciate the start of DST this year even more than I have the past 21.
Just one more week.
it's 12:32am in the morning here on the boat technically. and I'm on duty.
ReplyDeleteBUT, I had to post a reply because of the number of times I've rolled back the clock in the last week and for another reason, I'll be pushing out on another email. Just as an example though, tonight is the 4th night in a row we've had to roll back our clocks on the boat.
And as far as your Sandlot-like neighboorhood and childhood? Saw that quality in your house as soon as I stepped inside for that visit!