Every second, time keeps getting away from me
Time is a funny thing. It seems to stretch or shrink, depending
on what you’re asking of it. Time never seems to be just right for
us
– there’s either too much of it or too little. We’re never just
right on time.
Every second, time keeps getting away from me
Time is a funny thing. It seems to stretch or shrink, depending on what you’re asking of it. Time never seems to be just right for us – there’s either too much of it or too little. We’re never just right on time.
We play with time. We have normal time and then we have the hotly debated Daylight Savings Time, which came upon all of us last Sunday.
Then there’s Nichols time, which is quite adaptable as well.
My son has been constantly irritated with me because none of the clocks in the house are set to the right time.
But there’s a reason for that.
Like most modern American people, we’ve got clocks darn near everywhere. In the living room, we have a large and beautiful wall clock that in addition to telling the time, also conveniently covers up a hole in the wall. The DVD/VCR machine tells the time, if we remember to program it correctly.
The microwave has a digital clock, as does the stove. In the bedrooms, there are not only clock radios, but computers with an internal clock, ticking away at the tops of the screens. Of course our cell phones tell the time, too. Even the iPod has a built-in clock (and an alarm).
Let’s face it. Most clocks are imperfect things. They run fast or slow, or if they’re battery-powered and the battery runs out, not at all. (Of course, then they’re still right twice a day.)
Computer clocks are notoriously unreliable. And every other digital clock we have is dependent on electricity, and gets screwed up whenever the power goes out. Living in the country as we do, this is a fairly regular occurrence. We’ll go out and come home to everything blinking. Sometimes I don’t bother resetting anything for days. Too much trouble.
But what Hunter, the 15 year old, really hates is the fact that I deliberately monkey with the time.
Our big living room clock is usually set 10 minutes ahead. The microwave clock is 5 minutes ahead. Just about everything else is a minute or two fast.
And why, you ask, would this be?
Because otherwise we can’t ever seem to get anywhere on time.
Setting the clocks ahead really does help.
It’s funny, because I know that they’re all fast. I mean, I’m the one who did it. But I do react viscerally to the sight of the time, and my immediate reaction is, “Omigod, we’re late!”
Then the brain actually kicks in and sighs, “No, you’re not, you’ve got 10 more minutes.”
But the emotions at that point are already stirred up, and I’m on the move, finding backpacks and socks, shoving food at the dog, and well on the way to another busy, busy day.
So it works for me.
But Hunter, who is a very precise person, hates this clocks-set-fast stuff.
“Oh Mom,” he groans, “Why can’t you just make all the clocks tell the right time?”
So this past Sunday, when the clocks needed to be changed because of Daylight Savings Time, I finally gave in.
I set them all to the absolutely correct time. For the first time ever.
Except for one. It’s still three minutes fast.
Because I need it. That’s why.
