“It is official, I am giving up on daylight savings time. I will start a club, there will be membership cards of course; we will flash them incessantly to anyone who proclaims we are late.” And so started the major revolution of Drake’s life; finally his cross had arrived via mail order, and it was unpacked, assembled (without directions), and now ready to bear. Could a cause ever be more just? “That is ridiculous, I get an extra hour of sleep.” You would have thought his girlfriend would have been more supportive, a well educated woman whose thoughts often flirted equally with pure genius and complete insanity. So it would not be an easy one, ridding the world of this plague. The things people do for the sake of a better future.
He had it all figured out, especially the cards, the cards were important. It would be crucial to the clubs existence. There would be discounts made available, a dollar off smoothies, and a free cola with purchase of a gyro. These were very important things to the club; people must realize the multiplicity of benefits from being a part of something revolutionary. Meanwhile her thoughts were on this extra hour, and whether or not this psychologically affects those people whose biological clock wakes them up only at certain times. She was sure even with these risks, that it was for the good. After all, there must be a reason for this change.
“Farmers,” he shouted, “It’s all for some stupid farmers. They can’t sleep in or something, and decide to punish all of us, so now I exit the office to a darkened world. Why do farmers get such preferential treatment in our nation? They get this AND Willy Nelson? Honestly how fair is that?” He was doing research now, lots of it. Lot’s of it meaning very little at all; recalling something he had heard once from his grandfather regarding which season to plant the corn in, pulling random sentences out of an online version of the Farmer’s Almanac. Later he took to the practice of googling every combination of the word’s “Daylight”, “Farmer”, “Savings”, “Irrigation”, “Spring”, “Time” and “Fall”; equally searching for an answer to the origin of this silly practice as he was hoping for a google-whack. He found himself amazed by a website on crop circles, easily wasting 6 hours and convincing himself that somehow farmers were using the time change to hide the secrets of these mysterious occurrences. It was a very logical solution; there really is no reason to get up at those hours of the morning.
She just hoped he would move on; he had moments like these in the past and always moved on, these windmills he would chase and never catch. This one started to worry her, because normally she could come up with some logical challenge to his un-stable life changing ideas. Here she could not. She could only wonder if he was right, after all Arizona doesn’t abide by these time changes. “So why doesn’t Arizona participate?” She never should have brought up Arizona, but it was too late. He was even more fueled, and he somehow managed to hide the fact he really did not know much about Arizona, aside from what the flag looks like and that they had the London Bridge, but including that they in fact do not follow this savings time. He began to organize a trip to Arizona, more research was due; it is lovely in Phoenix this time of year. These people would be allies; those forced out of Arizona would gladly join his club, they would find comfort and familiarity. It would be a support group of sorts for these wayward children of the valley of the sun.
It continued constantly, for days Marissa put up with his sketches and calculations. He was convinced it was algebraic, or some unknown logarithm, it could be so far unknown that even the greatest minds had given up on the problem and simply filled in a bubble at random. “I refuse to take part in the time change this year, I simply won’t give in to something we have no reason for. We will probably need a website for the movement. I wonder if whereisthesavings.com is taken? I will send out an email stating that I am no longer adapting myself to the ludicrous and unwarranted changing of the time. This message will tell people if they need to meet me at 9am, that my 9am will be 10am so they should plan accordingly.” He was actually gaining support at this point. The cards had been printed and he had 17 members, even the local print shop guy that printed the membership cards himself decided he would join, though Drake suspected it was only because he had a far too obvious fondness for Cinn-a-bon’s.
“What time is your hair appointment on Sunday?’ he asked Marissa. She replied it was at 10am, but she wasn’t sure if that was 10am his time, or 10am her time. At this point she was no longer sure if she was going by his time or her time. Also at this point in time he was no longer sure if she was mocking him or supporting him. They settled on nine-thirty, it was a good median. There would always be side effects, and better to be only half an hour early or late than an hour late or on time. Imagine if he showed up on time, where would that show him as a revolutionary to the people? Surely a mutiny would follow.
He wondered to himself if the European nations accepted this mark of fools, or if it was another rebellious American trait. Arizona had the London Bridge; it would make perfect sense if they stole this from the British as well. Finally he questioned Marissa about it. As her heritage was European, she would surely have to know. She simply could not provide a definite answer; this would require more research. “If Britain does not abide by this Daylight Savings, I will definitely never again take part. Britain most certainly handles these situations better than us. After all, they have Paul McCartney.” Marissa actually laughed aloud when he said that, and the awkward silence that followed was one of love mixed with persistence. She knew in that moment he would never give this up, and in the same moment felt a soothing that came from knowing in some way this cause was necessary.
For certain it had improved their relationship. She had countless moments of just smiling as she glanced over at him while he riffled through some half-hearted research. There were the nights they would both lay entwined on the couch watching films on the great depression, crop circles, and World War II. The addition of World War II films to the research came from wandering the historical film section of the local video rental store and realizing ninety percent of this section was World War II films. He was able to completely share his halfway insane thoughts on this time subject with her, while she countered with more than halfway insane thoughts on some other subject. It was a life’s quest that only managed to fill the gaps of their life, never taking it over, and almost entirely existing for comedic relief.
“It has to have been the communists.” Marissa just giggles to herself, “How do communists have anything to do with this?” He began to explain, there really was much more caused by communism than we all think. This was a classic communist idea. He was really going with it, hand’s moving in and out, showing structure and systems. Perhaps the communists were really to blame after all. The similarities were far too aligned in these cases. “See Mar, Communism and this whole time thing, they both look really good on paper and when you think about them, but when they actually go into effect they make no sense at all.” She coolly responds, “Ah, yes. It’s mostly the execution.”
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