For the US, it's that time again: "spring forward" -- we all did it Saturday night supposedly in the wee hours. For Europe, I've heard, it happens on March 30th. Here I sit at the computer at 7:20 in the morning -- it would have been 6:30 last week.
I am reading a book about Greek mythology, reading it in little dips each evening because I've heard the stories before but now that I'm older some portion have faded and I welcome the insights of the author as to just what the ancient Greeks were bequeathing to Europe, philosophically speaking. When humans came on the scene, well after the gods had appeared and the cosmos was in shape, the idea of hubris became important. Those who challenged the gods, (in fact the gods who challenged Zeus also) were in deep trouble. Their sin of hubris, of thinking they were gods or had some of godlike attributes was a grievous one.
Perhaps it's only a small sin, to challenge Apollo, who pulls the sun across the sky each day. He's grander than any puny human rule and will appear in timely fashion no matter what. But governments have had the hubris to tell their people -- all their people -- that twice a year they must readjust their clocks, their diurnal rhythms, their habits by an hour. Must sleep, eat and, most importantly, work at the assigned time.
What's the big deal? By now I should be accustomed to it and just go with the flow. Well, of course, I do. But always there's an echo in my auditory memory: my mother hated the time change. "One of the damned stupidest laws ever made," she grumbled. And so do I. No government can change the rising and setting of the sun; shouldn't we at least accept some inevitabilities and stop this nonsense?
The mid-70s are a surprise! Part of me remains in the 50s -- age, I mean, not decade of 20th century. It's a joy ride, new experiences land in my lap and I've become a better quilter, poet, writer than I expected. It's a rich life for a person never rich financially. Hey, this is what the mid-70s are like!