We here in the Wild West don't care a continental for this spring forward bosh.

Spring forward. Today, as in the-middle-of-this-morning’s-night today, those of you who are out-of-the-Zone or non-Arizonans had to set your wee little clocks ahead one hour (though these days the-computer-chips-in-everything-and-soon-the-back-of-our-necks do it for many digital time pieces.)

Note to my friends and family in California: We are bending our elbows concurrently again. Please remember that.

Arizona does not participate in this crazy manipulation of time and confuser of VCR programmers everywhere. Being of the independent sort, and still embracing our Wild West roots, we choose not to mess with that hogswallow. Why, you ask? (Besides the reasons I just gave you.)

In short, we do not need one more ray of sunlight, much less a full hour of the dadgummed stuff in these parts. When I lived in “sunny southern California,” I thought the sun was stupid there in its inability to stop shining, but here? It’s downright dumb as a stump. Until the invariably-letting-me-down-in-its-severity-vs.-its-description “monsoon” hits, usually in mid-July, we will not see another cloudy, much less rainy day. It makes me crazy(er). When I hear that Windex commercial singing of that bright, bright sunshiny day, I want to hurl objects at the television screen (except it cost way too much to treat in that matter and if I indeed do that, well that will be the day you all can say in unison and without doubt, “She’s certifiable.”)

So tonight when all you who made-fun-of-us-because-we-are-Zonies-and-descend-on-your-shores-when-the-temp-climbs-above-100-here are trying to sleep because you have to get up and go to work in the morning and the clock says ten but your circadian rhythm tells you it is only nine, well, that’s karma baby. I could go on about how tired you’re going to be in the morning because of the same issue, but I will refrain. I have my own karma to consider, you know.

For now, I will quit beatin’ this dead horse and stop shooting my mouth off. I’ll pull in my horns, and holster my six-guns.

Besides, I’m fixin’ to skedaddle out yonder and get all things farmy in apple pie order before it gets hot as a whorehouse on nickel night out there.

Sleep well, pardners!

Comments

[Lynne Robinson]

You can keep your dadgum sunshine, Lauren! Thank you, I had more than enough of the brutal mile-high rays when we lived in Colorado. The sun is so much gentler here, and we have glorious RAIN ... don't have to water the lawn ... moss grows on trees [imagine! I'm still wondering at it all]. Slather on that sunscreen when doing farmy duties, now, don't forget.

I'm still reading ....

[Michelle]

Yes, indeed, we are more subject to the vagrancies of the politicians here, and I hate it! But I am not willing to move to AZ or Indiana (the other state with more sense), so I guess I have to put up with it. And to think that maybe Benjamin Franklin came up with the idea -- I thought he was an intelligent man!

[Kathy]

Here, here! I admit I'm one of those can't-take-it-any-more-way-too-much-sun people. When monsoons start up I am so glad to see a cloud I feel like dancing! And I always have to explain to visitors from out-of-state to either put sunscreen on, come inside or, at the mimimum, turn around so the other side gets just as red and crisp.

[Edythe]

Good words.