I love Daylight Savings Time. And I know many hate it. It’s a strange thing, to be sure, and it’s pretty clear that it would never be started now if it didn’t already exist. “I know, let’s change all the clocks in the world by an hour, temporarily, and then back again later!” This idea could only have been concocted in a simpler time when there wasn’t much else going on.

It’s true that in the Spring you lose an hour of sleep, and no matter what they say or how you try to deal with it, that hour does not come out of Saturday night. It comes on Monday morning when the alarm goes off. I deal with it all by starting on Friday. I moved my watch ahead in midafternoon, and then had no choice but to leave work early. Then I had shorter workday and an extra evening of long daylight. Oh, and had to have a Friday cocktail early too.

The idea of “saving” daylight from the beginning of the day and enjoying it at the end is quaint, a relic from when people saved things. Today, if we were to do this it would be called Daylight Borrowing Time, or Daylight Leveraging Time. The mechanism would need to be complex and opaque, and it would be sold as cost-free and simultaneously decried as a ticking time bomb that would hurt our children and grandchildren. No matter, the idea of sitting outside on long sunlit summer evenings is a tradition that ought to be beyond debate at this point. And if you ask, “Why don’t we just stay on DST year-round, even at the cost of very dark mornings?”, I’d say “Fine.” Winter sunset before five is a crime against humanity.