Monday, November 7, 2016

Silly Time Change, How You Mock Me

The SJG awakens in a state of delightful, yet rapidly dwindling, enthusiasm: "Oh, good morning, world. Hello, birdies. Hello, doggy. It appears you've taken over our marital bed. Isn't that cozy? The smattering of black doggy hair as it sheds, hither and thither, on the satin sheets and velvet pillows. The luxury of it all. The splendor. I can't quite get enough of it. Do tell, doggy! What time is it on this joyous day? Ahem, doggy. Could you kindly stop licking yourself long enough to tell me at the tone what the time will be? What's that, doggy? Six a.m.? No! Too-too early. It cannot be. I refuse to accept this hourly conspiracy. Clockwise, it feels like 7 a.m. Silly Daylight Savings! How you mock me. How you eff me up, twice annually. How you mess with my internal tick tock. Can't you leave this glorious body, this shul of wonder, this creaky anatomy of mine, alone? For if Daylight Savings isn't about me, who is it about, anyway? You? Oh, right. Silly me. I almost forgot. Much like the Election from Hell, we're all in this together.


  1. Why is it that we get an extra hour and have to use it to put away Halloween Decorations so as not to be shamed by a neighborhood that has clearly pivoted to Thanksgiving and the holidays by merely tossing out their cute little pumpking that has collapsed after its moment in the moon.

  2. Steve, you just invented a word and I'm digging it: pumpking. I think it could mean several things at once: The ceremonial tossing of the pumpkin. Or, in my case, the saving for the pumpkin till Christmas, whereupon it gets tossed whenI realize that's all Santa left me. An old pumpkin.