Over at RR, Mr. Kauffman takes up the laudable cause of bashing Dayling Savings Time and has this to say about Woodrow Wilson, the man who gave us the maddening changing of the clock:
God how I hate that bastard.
Amen to that. When I was in college, I would have to drive past the birthplace of Wilson every time I went to see my girlfriend at Mary Baldwin College. Staunton was hardly my favourite town to start with, but his birthplace made me regard it with a kind of contempt. Not really fair to Staunton, I suppose, since Wilson soon enough left the Old Dominion for points north, but it is because the man represented so much that was antithetical to the folk of the Valley that the commemoration of his birth there seems all the more awful, sacrilegous even.
When I was younger, I already took umbrage at the artificiality and, so it seemed to me, complete senselessness of DST. I did not as yet have more principled reasons to reject it, but reject it I did (sort of). Two years in a row, I refused to change my clocks and watch. Of course, the truly reactionary stand would have been to show up everywhere an hour early, and it was a fairly vain protest that I eventually abandoned, but following what one of our state legislators once called “God’s time” made a good deal of sense to me then. It still does, as I noted in this pro-crunchy post.