Solving the West Tennessee Time Tangle

I don’t have any idea who invented Daylight Savings Time, but I can guarantee you, whoever it was never had to milk a cow in the dark.

Uncle Wommack believed until the day he died that Benjamin Franklin was the culprit. I thought ole Ben was into flying kites, electricity, stoves, bifocals, a revolution, newspapers, Poor Richard’s Almanac, printing presses, and witty sayings.

You’d think him a mite too busy to worry about what time it was, but he sure would have needed more daylight than most.

Growing up, we loved the extra hour in the summer. We didn’t have a clue about saving energy in the World War I and II eras. We didn’t know nothing about springing forward or falling back. We knew if we ate supper in a hurry, we had two hours, or more, left in the day.

We could get 30 innings in if everybody hustled. Or slide down that bank beside George Sexton’s house on a flattened out cardboard box 16 times apiece. We could play chase all the way out to Pat Houston’s Grocery and back. Or we could sit on the porch and ponder out loud, which we did at times, on exactly how anyone could “save” daylight.

Believe it or not, there was a down side to the extra sunshine. By the time it got dark enough to shift the games to hide-and-go-seek, Stalag 17, or kick-the-can, Mom would be calling out the back door, “Bedtime.”

Talk about a bummer!

Mornings were an altogether different “time zone” in this deal. I told you about the cows. The dogs stayed up late, chasing rabbits and such by moonlight like always, but moonlight didn’t come until near ’bout midnight. They then slept in till noon. It messed up their whole rhythm.

I’ve often wondered if it didn’t do the same thing with people.

We couldn’t get Leon up in the mornings. Daddy accused him of running with the dogs. I’ve actually seen him eating biscuits and gravy sound asleep. In early August and September, before the time changed back, we walked to school in the dark. It took some careful stepping until we got down to where the streetlights started.

When I finally got old enough to date, the extra hour of sunlight in the summer turned from a beneficial friend to a romantic nightmare. Good golly, merciful heavens, I’ be on Millicent Blackburn’s front porch swing, waiting for just enough darkness to edge a bit closer…hoping to make good use of some serious stargazing….

I’d told her about Leon getting captured by aliens, chasing goats around the stock pens at the Tri-County Stockyards, swimming at the clay pits, and the complete story behind how David Mark fell through the ice. I drew each one out as long as I could and that sun hadn’t moved one inch in the western skies.

It was true love sabotage. Plain and simple. Millie’s usually sweet and polite grandmother was tapping on the inside of the front door window and pointing to her watch. I got home in time to play the last three innings of the after-supper baseball game.

I didn’t think to call Millicent and ask if I could come over for breakfast. We’d have a good hour or so afterwards to gaze up at all the stars in the world….

Daddy used to say the government didn’t have any cause to be messing with the good Lord’s time clock. I liked it when it fit my lifestyle. Not so much when it didn’t. The trick back then was how to make it work for you on a day-to-day basis.

I’ve spent some serious time pondering on the ebb and flow of that very question. And maybe I have found the solution.

Why couldn’t we make Daylight Savings Time work for us every single day of the year. We could all turn our clocks forward one hour at noon every day. It would be 1:00 PM. And we’d have an extra hour of sunlight all year around. Of course, that would eliminate the normal lunch period, which should not be a problem. It wouldn’t hurt most of us to skip a meal. Fasting is good for the soul.

Come 1 a.m. the next morning, everyone would move their clocks back to midnight. That would allow for ample early morning sunshine. Plus, you can eat two midnight snacks if you are a mind to, to make up for lunch.

We’d all have that wonderful extra hour of sunshine to enjoy every morning, and every evening, of the year. If you happen to have an after-dinner engagement with Millicent Blackburn on her front porch, just don’t move your watch up that day!

More sun in the mornings for getting the youngsters to school, or an early run, or breakfast at the City Café watching a small town come to life; more sun in the evenings for extra baseball and porch sitting.

Talk about win-win! ’Course, it remains to be seen how it will affect dogs, cows, and little children.

But this is such a good idea I’m surprised Ben Franklin didn’t think of it years ago….

Respectfully,
Kes
kesley45@aol.com