April 4, 2004
The Countdown
Have you ever wondered why people don't stay up to do a countdown when Daylight Savings Time begins?
Me either, because it seems obvious: you stay up until 2 and then all of a sudden it is 3 and the bars are still closed.
Perhaps on the other side of the coin.
Anyway, when the time changes I set the clock in the car to the correct time. Then, I see how much it gains for the next time shift. We are at 14 minutes since the beginning of Standard Time. Go, Ford! That might explain the fuel gage, as well.
The good news is that Amalia will probably sleep until 7. She will think it is 6, but we grownups have a way of thwarting things! Ah-hah, little toddler. We reset the clocks, so you didn't get us up at a horrid hour. Very clever, those grown-ups. Very clever.
I love Daylight Savings Time: sun into the evening is a great joy. I do miss my bright mornings, but nature adjusts and they sneak in. Then they become the consolation for the Gloomy Days (that and the extra hour of the bars being open).
It finally feels like summer here in the Bay Area, which means we got a blanket of bone-chilling fog in this evening. Ah, I love this town, as the late Herb Caen used to say. Now, I will dress as an Eskimo and drive to Sacramento only to watch the external temperature gauge (which is accurate) creep up one degree a mile. It is kind of scary. You hit Vallejo and think, "did I pack any cool clothes?" By the time you are in Vacaville, which is the hottest part of the area, you are wondering why you even own a flannel shirt.
Our memories are short. We hit summer and it is a big surprise. OK, maybe not for you, but it always sort of blindsides me. Then we get our nasty fogs and all of a sudden September hits with real summer weather. Again, I don't really expect it.
Part of this is my own gloominess when the weather is gray. In Sacramento we had nasty Tule Fogs, these opaque goos that hung out on the ground for what seemed like months on end. I remember one December I was seriously wondering if I was ever to see the sun again. These are killer fogs that cause major accidents on the Interstate, so you have to understand the Tule Fog Insanity on those terms.
Here on the Coast we have much more civilized fog. It still chills you to the bone, which is annoying in July, but it rolls in off the ocean and has some romance to it. I always want to sip a martini and listen to Tony Bennett when the fog rolls in. OK, I am almost always game for a martini and Tony Bennett, but it is especially acute when the fog is rolling in. And not "I Left My Heart" either. I want something from Perfectly Frank, maybe "Time After Time."
Long timers forget the weather, too. One day I was with a fellow who was born in the City, and has lived here most of his seventy-something years. We were watching the fog roll in over Russian Hill. "You know, this is quite rare. It usually doesn't come in like that."
Huh? Come again, Phillip?
"Well, it generally comes in more from the North. You know, from Fisherman's Wharf."
From the North. Fisherman's Wharf. Yes. I suppose it does. Hmmm.
We are also often surprised to see the Farallon Islands.
"Look! You can see the Islands!"
"You could see them yesterday, too."
"But, with such...clarity. That's a rare thing, you know. I remember when you could see them everyday..."
We feel like we are somehow letting the City down by not getting the details of our memories correct, but the City has a way of doing that to you. So does Oakland. In my mind, it is always foggy in the City, and always sunny in Oakland. I don't want to confuse my memory with actual data, so I let this persist.
"Wouldn't you rather live in the City?"
"Well, yes, but you can't grow tomatoes in the City."
Anyway, happy Daylight Savings Time.