Many years ago, I was at the local drinking club, talking with a guy I really enjoyed hanging out with. He mentioned he was 50. I'm pretty sure I felt a chill go down my spine. He didn't look or act 50 at all. I felt terrible for him, thinking, "Wow, he's really old."
Well, that guy is me now. As of today: 50. I'd like to maudlin all over myself and say I'm having a real hard time with it, but that wouldn't be true. It's a bit surreal, but otherwise, I'm just plodding forward.
I'm mostly bummed at losing the hour! Of all nature's cruelties: Daylight Savings Time starts on my birthday, thereby depriving me of one hour of my Day to be a Tyrant around the House.
But alas, we all know nature didn't deprive me of the hour. It was the federal government. Bill Kauffman laid out the history in his recent collection of essays. I can't find the essay online, but a different version of it can be found here.
In 1942, FDR reimposed DST as a year-round measure. He called it "war time." Once again, peace brought repeal, and the states of the union tick-tocked, as Mr. Downing puts it, in "horologic schizophrenia," which also goes by the name of federalism. By 1965, 18 states observed DST, 12 did not, 18 more "halfheartedly participated," and contrarian North Dakota and Texas observed "daylight in reverse," winding their clocks back one hour. Calculating interstate airline and bus schedules was a job for savants.
But then uniformity rode in on her pale gray horse. Since 1966 we've sprung ahead when Washington says to, though Arizona, Hawaii and eastern Indiana stubbornly refuse to adopt Daylight Saving Time. For the rest of us, DST now runs from the first Sunday of April to the last Sunday of October, or seven months a year, "which means that Daylight Saving Time has become our Standard Time."
