iNeed to Vent

I got a new iPhone 4S yesterday and immediately set about getting it all configured and set up the way I want it. This process included only the odd "wow" and "oooh" from me as I discovered the simplicity and seamlessness of its operation and integration. This is a far bit away from the normal words that issue forth from my heavily contorted visage as the beads of sweat like drops of tropical rain roll unabated down my bald head, only to steam off of my red enraged face.

Aside from being pretty, it is another cog that is necessary in my professional electronic organization nirvana. Or at least that what I told myself to justify my purchase. Truth be told, it isn't really my purchase... It is my company's. I am the only Apple devotee in a sea of people who think I am a mindless follower of the cult of Mac. But they none-the-less relented as I made the case my purchase was necessary and directly impacted my ability to juggle my job.

I have the thing. I love it. I literally and to an unnatural degree love my phone. I'll get over that, I guess, like you do after any purchase like this. After time, it loses its luster and becomes less special.

Or is that the case for Apple's products? Several months on I am still enamored by our iPad, bought for us as an anniversary gift by my parents. It is almost flawless. I say almost because for some reason I can't get Facetime to work. I am sure a small investment of time, (which I don't have as reasonable a need as that is), will lead me to the answer and all will be right with the world.

When I got my phone, all the "Apple People" congratulated me and greeted me warmly. Friends responded to my Facebook status and I got several Facetime calls from other iPhone users... just because they could. It was like going to heaven and seeing Grandma and your favorite dog waiting there for you, hands outstretched. I felt like I was immediately and without prejudice a member of this community of happy people.

And it isn't so much that I love my phone. I knew I would. Having not lived under a rock these past four years, I have used many iPhones. But I think I unlocked the secret of why people pay more to drink of the "Cupertino Kool-Aid" as I am now calling it. My iPhone has engendered within me an instantaneous and deep enmity for my old Blackberry.

Crashes, problems, limited capabilities... these are all well-known and long suffered traits of the Blackberry that users know all too well. Furthermore, I tried to remove the software from my computer and cannot because of some sort of registry error that lead me to the nerdernet, (the 1% of the internet not devoted to celebrity gossip, porn and other ill-conceived subject matters and actually containing useful information), to find out why.

Off to the command prompt and typing in all sorts of things to supposedly get it to fix itself and still no-go. I reinstalled, "fixed" and otherwise tried to restore the program, which never worked correctly in the first place, all in order to get it off my computer.

It's still there, in spite of an hour of work. And wouldn't you know, throwing the actual Blackberry had no discernible effect on the situation? If utter violence can't solve a problem than what of the world as I know it?

And now my love, sits proudly to my left, streaming Van Morrison, so beautifully playing the object of my affection, while on my right is the pile of parts that used to be my Blackberry as useful now in pieces as it was intact. Beauty and the Beast, indeed.

iRegardless

A co-worker of mine belongs to an organization that is involved with multilevel marketing of a group of healthful products. He is involved in this primarily because he believes in the products and he perceives great value in the leadership and motivational support system that is built around the products themselves.

Fair enough.

My co-worker lent me a few CDs, because he knows I am always interested in listening to motivational speakers for a variety of reasons. The best ones always offer some sort of new perspective and find a way to connect with the listener. Under the right circumstances, these types of programs can help you over a hump, help you find your lost will, or just help you by teaching you something you didn't know before.

My first CD, which I started listening to was entitled, "The Churchill Factor." Anyone who knows me knows of my deep and abiding admiration and respect for that most pugnacious and brilliant Brittan and his ability to share his intellect by employing his unmatched and highly quotable wit. According to the CD, Churchill is "widely considered" the most important Brit of all time. I haven't heard that myself, and I feel that most broad statements of that sort are highly arguable, but I don't disagree.

So far, so good. Setting aside the deep Michigander accent of the speaker, (I am guilty of it myself being a Michigander), he started wavering off the original point. Churchill hadn't been mentioned now in several minutes. We were many thoughts off the topic now and I wondered if the man was using notes, or just sort of... talking.

And then it happened.

He used "irregardless". And as soon as I heard it, my ears began to bleed. I thought to myself I must have misheard this man, who now was talking about 'personal mastery.' Clearly a professional presenter who understands the importance of personal mastery did not just use a word that is not a word.

And he said it again with more feeling, using repetition to underscore his core point, which I have long since forgotten, since I was having a TIA while driving on account of his proud use and reuse of 'irregardless.'

He lost me there and never got me back. I donned my thick rimmed glasses complete with neck chain, zipped up my black silk robe, doffed my mortar board and set about mentally dissecting each and every phrase and argument as though the speaker was offering oral arguments in defense of his thesis.

He was losing. He could not win. He would never win.

After the 'I' word, (non-word), I noticed he had poor diction. he used the word recognize a lot, except it came out each time as reckonize. Before the dropping of the 'i-bomb' that likely wouldn't have bothered me.

Then it happened again.

"Risk adversion" was the next misbegotten Mondegreen. I am sure he meant 'risk aversion', but he bumbled boldly forward continuing on, again using repetition to drive home the point that he was an idiot.

My bile was whipped into a froth by now, and so to other drivers who were paying attention I was red-faced, full bore screaming at my center console to this man as though I was in his audience. I assure you, he is lucky I wasn't, for I surely would have taken umbrage with these unforgivable gaffes right there in front of God and everybody.

It isn't that you need to be a master of superfluous erudition or possess preternatural perspicacity in order to be a good speaker. In fact, the number one rule of public presenting is to know your audience and tailor your message to that audience.

In other words, if you are speaking to an audience of presumed wide-spread education and intelligence, then you must speak in a way that the least capable among the audience will understand. Patton called it 'Corporal Rule'... Only until your orders can be understood and carried out by the lowliest of grunts are they good enough to be disseminated to the leadership.

This man, who was now talking about personal mastery in public speaking had never learned a thing about public speaking. And my co-worker, known for using such chestnuts as 'sleep deprivized' and others I can't remember at this moment, only takes more bad habits away from this 'educational' series.

The punchline here is that he wants me to buy into the monthly series for $50.00 a month. I now face the indelicate task of explaining to someone, (who is my superior on the corporate chart, but with a dotted line), that I don't think I have much to learn from this particular program.

I don't have a point. I just needed to get it off my chest. And I don't appreciate that there are people out there who would tell me I am being a snob and that as long as I understood what he was trying to say, I should stuff my disdain for his mistake.

I disagree. If you place yourself in a position of expertise, you had best know exactly how to comport yourself and telegraph your message using proper syntax and grammar, period. If you aren't willing to do that, sit down and let someone else do the speaking, for that would be the best and most educational gesture for which you are capable.

Hoops: Some Jumping Through Required

Today was the day. I had to be at the mall, so why not pop by the Apple store and pick up my new iPhone 4S? The store wasn't even busy. And they didn't have what I wanted. Which I knew they wouldn't because that's just how those things go.

So I went across the parking lot to the Verizon store. See, Verizon is through whom my work has phone service. I pay a small amount each month to have the privilege of using my phone for work and for personal. It's a good deal and keeps me from having to carry multiple devices.

But, they didn't have it, either. So, I tried to order one from Apple.com. Can't since they couldn't verify my account. They couldn't verify my account because they only do personal accounts. So, I had to call Verizon.

The very nice and knowledgeable customer service person explained I don't have an upgrade, but another number on the account does and I can just call the store, order it, and when I pick it up, tell them to do a "buddy upgrade" and voila! I would have a new iPhone.

So, I called. Nope. Can't order it on the phone, have to come in. Or, I could order it online, get it, then do the upgrade. Except I don't trust that, because I want a face and name attached to the "yes, of course we can do this upgrade for you." Otherwise, I can see everyone running for the hills and screaming they've never seen me before... and no, I can't return my phone.

Simple.

Why is it that no one wants to take my money? I mean, I know people are lining up like cattle at the fair to blindly give Apple their money for a new phone, but does that really mean they don't care about my moooooo-lah? Sorry, I couldn't resist.

I want the iPhone since I have an iPad and have found it indispensable for business, but It requires all sorts of additional input on my part with calendar items and contacts. I just want to put it in one thing and have it be in the other thing immediately and automatically.

Technical enough for you? And no, I am not going to pay for an exchange service.

So, there. Won't someone please take my money so I can have another China made piece of plastic that won't be any good in 18-24 months? I thought this was a consumer society after all!
__________________________________________________________

Latent Mail, Holiday Weeks, Thankfulness, Day 1

Why is the mail late? Because there's money in there for me, that's why. It never fails. I have written about it before.

My friend Greg believes he and indeed his whole family is cursed. He swears that any time he likes something as soon as he latches on to it, buys in, becomes a devotee or whatever, it gets canceled, discontinued, changed for the worse, becomes more expensive or in one case, illegal. But we won't get into that.

My curse is that whenever there is money waiting for me in the mail, it's late. The mailman has been on vacation for two weeks. Last paycheck I was able to pick it up because I was at the office. The mail came at 10 am that day.

Two weeks later, I imagine our lazy worthless, good-for-nothing, chain-smoking, barely literate regular mailman is back. And we are back to the "maybe" delivery system. Perhaps he was not made to take the sleet, snow, dark of night oath. Perhaps he snickered while he did.

Before you are so helpful as to recommend direct deposit: I would that I could, but I can't so don't ask. Some things are the way they are. The mail is late because it owes me money. And that's just the way it is.
____________________________________________________________

Why are we even going through the pro-forma of "working" this three day week? No one is in the office. No calls are being picked up or returned. I just raced through my entire three day plan in 6 hours. I have one appointment tomorrow, but, were it not for that, I could probably turn off my phone and no one would notice.
___________________________________________________________

This week is Thanksgiving. Today, I am thankful for the fact I am American and as such have access to well more than I need to survive. My problems are but a trifle as they do not include scouting for a new well for water, stalking prey for food and fighting other men over limited shelter.
I am not being persecuted for my religion, color, gender, political affiliation. I have so much material wealth, I can afford to lavish some of it on pets that perform no useful function to my household.
In fact, my biggest problem is that the mail is late... because it owes me money.

Believe you me, I am ridiculously thankful for my ridiculously wonderful life.

Business Cards/Ringing in the Ears/Inter(mittent)net

I have to admit, I think I have thrown more business cards away than I have given out in my professional lifetime. It's not my fault. The business card cannot be changed quickly and often to reflect how quickly and often reality changes.

For instance, when I stopped representing the disaster recovery company on the West side of the state, I threw away the 1,000 new cards they had just printed for me. It was a pain to shred them so they could be recycled, but that's what I did.

Then for the minority joint venture company, I got 500 brand new high quality cards. And our office address and phone changed. I never even gave one out. 500 more tossed to the winds. I am getting sick to my stomach just thinking of the waste. When I got new ones, I asked them to pay more per unit to get fewer cards, since that card is only passed seldom and under specific circumstances. I just don't want to waste more of them.

Most recently, I discovered my card for the janitorial company had the disaster recovery company phone number listed as the emergency phone number. So those, too had to go. about 300 of the original 500 down the tubes. I just picked up 1,000 new ones yesterday. That can only mean some sort of dramatic shift is right around the corner.

The business card seems so old-timey. Why we haven't switched to a universal virtual card, I don't know. In fact, smart phones should have a short-cut button that automatically transmits your card. There should be a standard format across platforms. Easy. No waste. Nothing to carry (or forget to carry).
__________________________________________________________

Add tinnitus to the ever-longer list of maladies from which I am suffering. This one is a special kind of hell. It is omnipresent and disturbing.

I have been reading a bit and there are a number of causes of tinnitus and a number of manifestations. It could be accompanied by hearing loss, trauma, high blood pressure, stress, aspirin use, blockage, or any other of a seemingly endless list.

What that means to me is that "they" basically don't have a clue as to the true nature of this disorder and are compensating by throwing the kitchen sink at it.

As usual, the internet is full of homeopathic remedies that supposedly work, though the sites that are mostly medical in nature hedge on the effectiveness of these. There is some promising research involving an iPod like device with an additional sensory output that attaches to the user's tongue. This attachment pulses along with the music (any music apparently will do) and somehow retrains the auditory cortex to recognize only actual signals instead of those that are elusive.

Some tinnitus can actually be physically heard by trained ENTs, (sorry, Otolaryngologists). I went to a website with sound clips of various types that have been heard and replicated. I have almost exactly what that site describes as "High Frequency Buzzing". It is uncanny how close, even in actual frequency my reality is to that sound clip. I doubt I could even hear it if it were any close.

On top of my normal issues with sleeping, this is now taking its toll. Wearing headphones and listening to music (quietly, I assure you) when I am working alleviates most of it. But that is only so much of my life.

I guess I'll talk to the doc and go see an ENT and see if there is a specific pathology involved with my case. If not, I'll start trying the herbal remedies that are out there and see if by some miracle they work on me.

I hold out little hope for success. It just reminds me that if I knew I was going to live this long, I would have taken much better care of myself.
__________________________________________________________

Intermittent internet is plaguing my home. I have done all I can without spending money. Comcast says it isn't their fault. I believe them, since our TV is working fine. It's just the internet.

Likely it's my geriatric modem. I already shored up all the connections and reattached the grounds that were left unattached when the plumber came this past spring. But, the problems didn't start way back then, so I suppose that was wishful thinking.

The wire does go through a lot of tree limbs and it is windy today, but again, TV is fine. Just internet is affected. Add it to the list of stuff I don't have time or money to fix.

Apropos of Nothing

Emily and I have decided that the phrase "apropos of nothing" would be the perfect epitaph for her tombstone. Don't get me wrong, I am not hastening her to the grave. In fact, my plan is to be long gone and recycled into soylent green by the time she even catches a cold.

And beside all that, we both want to be cremated, not buried. All this is beside the point, though. The point is that Emily has a personal style of communication that confuses and befuddles me sometimes. Hand on heart, it befuddles me all the time. Well, not all the time, but more than some of the time. Much of the time? Often times? See, even I'm confused now.

Here is an exchange from last night as close to verbatim as I can remember it:

Em "Did you get the e-mail your mom sent?"
Bill "No. Wait, when did she send it?"
Em (a little testy) "Bill, I had 62 e-mails, I don't know."
Bill (matching the testiness) "What was the e-mail about?"
Em "CHRISTMAS!" (she said as though I was privy to the conversation she was having with herself and just now let me in on.)
Bill "Oh. No. I didn't get it."

This is a typical exchange in our household. Em will ask me the vaguest of vague questions and it's my job to drill down to the actual answerable question that exists somewhere within the morass, like a needle in a haystack.

By the end, she feels I am being difficult and I feel like I'm stupid for not knowing the answer to her questions, like:
Em "Did I tell you what Jenny and I did on Friday?"
Bill "No."
Em "I thought I told you we went to Macy's and I got that deal on a dress for the Christmas party."
Bill "Oh, yeah, you did tell me that."
Em "So how come you just said I didn't?"
Bill "If you knew you told me, why did you just ask me again?"
Em "So I could tell you that..."

And then we get to the actual story.

Which for as vague as the question portion of the game is, lies in the starkest of stark contrast to the mind-numbingly excessive amount of minutiae that is to follow.

Em "While we were there, this girl was wearing this gingham shirt... Well, not really 'gingham', I guess, more of a sort of monochromatic plaid on twill. It was really nice, but it didn't fit her very well. She was kinda, pear shaped. She just got bigger the farther you went down.
"So, anyway, we were behind her on our way to look at the mens' store for you and we passed housewares. They have the blender I want on sale until Thanksgiving."
Bill "Uh, ok. Um, and what about the lady with the ginger swill?"
Em "What?"
Bill "The fat lady who you went in great detail of describing! You said you followed her to the housewares department."
Em "No, we were following her to the mens' store and stopped at housewares. Didn't you listen?"
Bill "Yes! What about the lady and the shirt?"
Em "Nothing. I just liked the shirt."

And scene.

I don't ask where to my hair went and where from the gray in my beard came. It's all right here in front of me.

She comes by it honestly. We all come by our foibles and idiosyncrasies honestly. In this case it is a direct DNA link to her father who obsesses over the smallest details of a story and never really gets anywhere. The one thing they have going for them is that they are both pretty entertaining and have good senses of humor, so there is a bit of a reward for your patience. And they both take my jesting with good humor when I point these things out.

I am one to talk. I will take a three minute story and turn it into a Homeric tale entirely out of scale with the reality of the situation. However, I do so in a calculated fashion that is meant to all tie together throughout. It's like a riff.

Maybe that's what it is supposed to be with Em. She is riffing with me; and I am just not in on the joke. Or maybe, since I tend to be pretty quiet around the house she forms her questions and stories this way in order to force my participation.

Maybe I will never know. But I have to go. Em just hollered from the other room that "the thing is blinking on the box again!" Only goodness knows what she's talking about this time.

By the way, I let Emily read this before I published it so she would know it's all in good fun. She laughed until her sides hurt. So don't go all Gloria Steinem, Gloria Allred, Glory-Glory-Hallelujah on me.

Moments of Clarity

I have discovered that I am at the very most a few moments of wisdom and clarity punctuated by a whole lot of mediocrity. Like a blanket that is mostly monochromatic brown, but displays occasionally and without a warning, a shock of color randomly woven into the sea of nothingness. Sometimes there are some pretty big brown stretched with no color in sight.

I was reminded of this this morning when the owner of my company wanted me to refresh everyone on my vision at the end of my meeting by reading what I had written. As I had a seizure (because this was an unrehearsed ad lib and rare departure from our disciplined agenda), I had to admit, "I have no idea what you are talking about."

What he was talking about was something I wrote on an internal report about three weeks ago. I had forgotten. He read it for me to the group and I recognized it as being my own. I recognized it as sounding like it was written by someone who was not only able to simply and effectively convey the desired sentiment, but also do it with great eloquence. I am usually able to see past the relative goodness of whatever I do to focus on the zits and pocks; but this time I was caught off guard and my internal nay-sayer was off yelling at himself in a mirror somewhere.

It actually took me by surprise how good I thought it was. This little ditty was not spoken about at the time. It was an internal report after all. But here, the biggest of wigs is quoting... me.

I don't think I could write that today. At least not right now. Maybe if I ever shake loose the many cob webs that are still inhabiting my head on account of the weekend. I was basically in a gastronomically induced coma out of which I am trying to claw with approximately none of my might.

As of now, I am seeing a pretty unobstructed sea of brown. the problem with being able to forge chestnuts out of disparate thoughts is that people start to think you are pretty smart. And then the old adage about the more people talk the less intelligent they become kicks in and everyone realizes that while you might come out with one in the clutch every here and there, you are pretty much drooling on yourself the rest of the time.

Sometimes, the best things I say come without my intervention at all. I will hear it as I say it, just like the person I am talking to. I am often just as surprised as you are. Today I would be surprised and delighted to have a moment of clarity. Of course, I'm not sure I would recognize it if it hit me between the eyes.

Someone Had to be First

I was first out of the poker tourney last night. I went all in on two pair and didn't see the flush of my opponent until it hit me smack in the head.

There is an old joke my neighbor told to me when I was growing up. It's a bit dated, but it will set the time and the place nicely.

You walk into a bathroom and there on the stools sit Dolly Parton and Princess Diana... which one should you bet on? The answer? Princess Diana because a Royal Flush always beats a great pair! Ha!

Ok, it's a terrible joke. Don't even bother to ask how I would get past all that security to get into a ladies restroom. The whole premise falls apart because Dolly Partons boobs haven't been nice in eons and Princess Di, did. But as odd as it may seem, the punchline of this joke came true last night.

The good part is I got to come home earlier than I thought. The better news is I dodged the deer and the dreadful drivers and made it home in tact and in good spirits.

Speaking of good spirits, that was the prize for being first out- a free drink, which I declined on account of my 120 mile drive home. I think that was smart thinking on my part.

In life as in sports someone has to win and that means someone has to lose. It's a platitude, but it is indeed the truth. This is why I get testy with people who are angry at the wealthy just because they are wealthy. We can't all be first, no matter what Ms. Smith taught you in second grade.
______________________________________________________________


I heard a couple platitudes over the last day:

People spend their entire lives either avoiding pain or seeking pleasure. I believe that is an oversimplification. And I believe it is indelicate. I don't like this particular piece of psychobabble. You can keep the nickle, but I am not taking the advice.

There are three kinds of people in this world. Those who make things happen, those who watch things happen and those who wonder what the hell just happened. This is apparently the work of Friedrich Nietzsche, but I think it's a little kitschy for Nietzsche. And, I also think it is an oversimplification. I wouldn't argue with Herr Nietzsche on the topic because he scares me a little and because I don't think he lost too many arguments in his lifetime.

Figures never lie, but liars do the figuring. Go figure.

Measure twice, cut once. I personally like... I keep cutting it and it's still too short.

Better late than never... better never late.

Of all, that last one has informed my life most. Punctuality is next to godliness. Hey, is that a new platitude?
_________________________________________________________

Goodbye! Don't Forget Your Ears!

I'll bang this out real quick as I have a date with the highway here in 20 minutes. I have a big prospect to see today for a follow-up meeting. Usually these are make or break type of meetings. I am going it alone, too, which is fine with me. My 'backup' usually screws things up.

I don't have a really big ego about most things. However, my ability to present is not one of those. I guess ego isn't even the right term, so much as well-earned confidence. I get told all the time presenting is my "gift". I don't disagree and I end up taking the point on these things anyway because I show up more prepared and more confident than my colleagues and I am also just better at extemporaneous presenting should the need arise.

So I am armed with all I need. Data, Concepts, Structures, Costs, Implementation Plans, etc.

The only thing I need is my ears.

Sometimes, I forget my ears.

It is an old axiom, probably as old as verbal communication itself that goes something like "You have two ears and one mouth... use them in that proportion."

There is a sign on the wall of our bathroom at the office that says "the quieter you are, the more you hear." Of course that seems to me a veiled threat in that particular room wherein all who dwell are presumably there for one of but three or four reasons, none of which are especially quiet. In this case, said room is about as sound proof as a drum. What exactly is that sign alluding to? Are people listening to me go to the bathroom? I am being as quiet as I can be? Is what I am hearing someone putting their ear to the door?

Back to the point. My charge-taking skills are well honed in relation to my shut-up and let the customer take you where they want to go, skills. I try to coach myself and work on it, but I find it hard to fight off the energy that I get naturally from these meetings.

I really like them. And I really like to do well. And I have control issues, (which by the way I come by honestly- and while it's not nice to point fingers, if I did, which I am not, they would be aimed squarely at my Mother, whom I love), which means in order to perceive myself as having done well, I need to control the meeting.

Only I don't. And I know this because it's true. But still, it doesn't make it any easier for me to shut up and let someone else drive.

I will fill you in after the meeting, but today is the day. I am going to sit placidly until the prospective customer speaks. And if they do not, my only question will be... "What would you like to talk about, today?"

Wish me luck. I have a 2 hour car trip to coach myself before go time.
______________________________________________________________

After my meeting, I will be playing poker. This will be the second time in as many weeks that I have played. I will be playing again next week.

Unlike the monthly friendly game I have inserted myself into, tonight's is a networking event. So, ostensibly, I am playing poker for work.

Hate the game, not the playa.

Falling

Falling down is hard, falling back is awesome. I am no great fan of the time change. The sun comes up and goes down. Our manipulation of the clock is simply mans' micromanaging things well beyond his control. It is an antique of a bygone era and should be stopped immediately.

Not immediately. After this Saturday. I love to fall back. I celebrate falling back. I would like to have one more hoorah before sending the whole mess into obscurity, forever.

Falling back is the best kind of falling next to falling in love and I would even say its better because falling in love is messy, sometimes. Not so with falling back. Falling back is always awesome. For everyone.

Early to bed, early to rise? You get an extra hour of sleep.
Workaholic? You get an extra hour to work.
Bon Vivant? That's one more hour 'til last call my bumbling booze filled friend.

Emily and I shall celebrate with a bottle of spirits and some good movies. I believe a crackling fire is in order to set off the mood nicely. I see blankets with cats upon them and stocking feet sticking out the end to feel the warmth of the fire.

It is a rapturous thing, this extra hour. Like a bank error in my favor leading to an unexpected windfall (please don't sue me, Parker Brothers), we savor the wonder of the extra hour. I could go so far out on a limb as to say we should simply keep falling back once per year as a little reward for our year of toil. But, like all good things that leads to problems. The early to bed early to rise person within reminds me that we would all be up all night and sleeping all day. That's no good.

So, they give us this gift, but then in only 5 months they take it back! Why do they take it back? I realize we can't keep falling back, but springing forward is a bitch! And they can't agree on whether to take it back earlier or later in the Spring. The knock on effect of all this is that my fancy intelligent alarm clock, which is supposed to manage all this time stuff for me, doesn't know what to do and when! The government has literally intruded into my bedroom and plopped itself right atop my alarm clock which is right next to my head as I sleep. Creepy.

I don't want them to take it back. Leave it! Let me enjoy the afterglow of that one extra hour without the part where I have to pay it back. Falling back is like finding a $20.00 bill in the pocket of a winter jacket. It was lost and forgotten and is now found and loved. It would be wrong for your coat to come to you after winter and say, "Dude, where's my $20 bucks?"

What's the harm in leaving it? In the long days part of the year more people would be driving to and from work in sunshine leading to fewer accidents. We could turn on our lights later saving electricity and greenhouse emissions... are you listening Democrats? It won't cost a thing to implement and won't anger anyone worth paying attention to. Are you listening Republicans?

Furthermore, I could turn off the now worthless feature on my super smart alarm clock and just set the time and forever be done.

Fall Back Forever! Spring Forward Never! Occupy Big Ben! Say it with me now...