Some clocks just can't be reset when the time changes

There it was, that familiar thump in the night.

I rolled over in the bed in the darkness this past Sunday to check the time on my phone. A touch of the “on” button and 4:22 a.m. flashed back at me.

While still groggy from being roused out of a pleasant sleep, I was reminded that Daylight Savings Time had once again passed into history and that 4:22 a.m. was really 5:22.

As Standard Time arrived again it was nice to know there was at least one clock in my life that did not need me to fiddle with buttons, guess their functions, and do my best to reset things.

Another clock that is impossible to reset is the internal one Ringo the family beagle uses to guide his daily rituals. He eats at 6 a.m., gets some sleep, maybe goes outside to visit a tree or bush, grabs a few more doggie Z’s and eats dinner at about 5 p.m.

After evening chow it’s beg at the dinner table (he’s a very spoiled, but generally well-behaved dog), more relaxing on his couch and then off to bed to start the cycle once again.

Yes, I’m admitting the dog does have a place on the bed, and on any piece of furniture he feels comfortable enough to leap upon. That means the Lazy-Boy, “Grampa’s chair,” etc., etc., etc. are all his territory.

Of all the things in my life that need adjustment two times a year when we change our clocks, the dog is the one that reminds me why I detest the practice.

Ringo’s clock is impossible to change. You know, old dogs, new tricks?

Now I realize this is no one else’s problem other than that of my wife and I. We never thought about the unintended consequences of his feeding times — especially the one that sometimes occurs at O-dark-30.

So while my clock said it was 4:22 a.m. last Sunday, to Ringo it was 5:22 and only 38 minutes until breakfast. Who said dogs can’t count or tell time?

Changing clocks in spring and fall began as a measure to conserve resources. Specifically coal which was burned to create electricity to power lights during World War I. Turning clocks ahead in the spring would mean people would use less energy.

This has been the common argument behind still keeping Daylight Savings Time in most states. Only Arizona and Hawaii — plus, as I discovered years ago, certain counties in northern Indiana — presently do not subscribe to the practice. But word is Utah is thinking of discarding the clock swap, too.

But the energy conservation idea went out the window when it was discovered that later sunsets meant people did more away from their homes, drove more and generally consumed more energy.

A Rasmussen Report survey in 2013 showed only 37 percent of those surveyed thought Daylight Savings Time should continue, while 45 percent thought it was pointless and not worth the hassle.

Daylight Savings Time is also supposed to aid farmers who can work longer days with added light on both ends of the day. One farmer surveyed said, ”You don’t always know until you get started in the morning what you need to do, so having morning daylight doesn’t always make a difference.”

Falling back also has certain safety concerns as a darker commute in the evening tends to lend itself to more traffic accidents.

Aside from some study-suggested health risks —increased heart attacks and risks of suicide —associated with the return to Standard Time in the fall, more darkness can sometime lead to increased rates of depression.

But the biggest casualty when it comes to changing clocks is loss of sleep. Dr. Sean Duffy, an associate professor of Psychology at Rurgers-Camden University says time changes upset a person’s natural sleeping schedule.

The television news talking heads will often tell you there will be an extra hour of sleep in your future when you’re turning back the clock.

For me when Standard Time returned last Sunday at 2 a.m., I got just that.

Normally Ringo hits the floor about 5 a.m. so in reality he must have been letting me sleep in just a little.

Paul Delaney can be reached at [email protected].