As we once again approach the end of Daylight Saving Time (this coming Sunday, for whatever reason at 2:00 a.m.), I am, as always, ambivalent in my feelings toward this twice-yearly ritual of forcing our body clocks to conform to our timepieces.

While we all think we know why it was instituted: to accommodate farmers — which isn’t true because it really sends the animals into a tailspin — or to extend the late daytime hours as a fuel-saving device during World Wars I and II, the real blame can be laid at the door of the venerable American statesman, Benjamin Franklin.

In 1784, Franklin wrote a satirical letter suggesting that people wake up earlier to make better use of daylight and save on candle wax. Despite his many recorded tidbits of wisdom, this was one idea he should have kept to himself.

Thanks a lot, Ben.

But he wasn’t the only one with the same not-so-bright idea. In 1895, New Zealand entomologist George Hudson proposed a two-hour time shift so that he might have more evening daylight for his bug-collecting hobby. That obviously did not go down well with the majority of non-insect-obsessed folks.

And British builder William Willett suggested in 1907 that an extra hour of summer daylight would benefit his golf game. I’m guessing his wife put the kibosh on that one.

Today, we no longer depend on candles to light our homes; and, while there are (sadly) still wars erupting in various parts of the world, we have solar and nuclear energy to supplement the use of fossil fuels in powering our bloody attacks on our fellow human beings.

So why do we still need to mess with our circadian rhythm every spring and fall?

The simple answer is: We don’t. And I’m wondering why Congress doesn’t take a little time off from its endless, hate-filled, internecine battling and put through a simple, non-controversial, non-partisan bill eliminating an outdated tradition that would actually make the vast majority of people happy.

Pretty please?

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Another random thought for a rainy Monday: On this date in 1962, the Cuban Missile Crisis ended as the United States and the Soviet Union each took a step back from confrontation and avoided nuclear war.

And it occurs to me that this might be the perfect time for Vladimir Putin to do what Nikita Khrushchev did 63 years ago: come to his senses and give a little. Khrushchev withdrew his offensive missiles from Cuba; in exchange, John F. Kennedy withdrew America’s defensive weapons from Turkiye.

Today, perhaps Putin could give up his expansionist claims to Ukrainian territory if Donald Trump could convince Volodymyr Zelensky to, say, agree not to pursue membership in NATO.

I know it’s not nearly that simple; but a girl can dream, can’t she?

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And finally, today is also the anniversary of Theodore Roosevelt’s birth in 1858. In keeping with the approach of Halloween in a few days, I’m reminded of the years I lived with T.R. — not back in the 19th century, obviously, but with his spirit in his former home on 19th Street, N.W., in Washington, D.C.

His is the only ghost I’ve ever actually encountered, and happily he was a friendly one — mischievous and playful, as he is reputed to have been in life. I’ve written earlier in this blog about that ten-year adventure (see, Reflections #10: “On Watergate and Other Ghosts of Washington”), so I won’t go into it here. But I would like to wish Teddy a very happy 167th birthday, and to say thanks for the memories.

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And with that, I wish all of you a pleasant remainder of your day. I’ll be back later with my take on the day’s news, but it’s time now for a little break.

As always, thanks for reading.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
10/27/25