The time change is driving me cuckoo

Well, it happened again. We just went through the clock-changing ritual one more time. What ever happened to the vote of the people back in 2018 that “recommended” removing this time-consuming craziness?

When this idea was first conceived in 1949, it wasn’t a big deal. Change the mantel clock, the one on the nightstand, maybe one in the kitchen, a couple of watches and the job was completed.

But times have changed. Now it’s a whole different story. Here’s how it can go in a typical California home these days. Be prepared to waste a good Sunday afternoon.

First of all, change the digital clocks on two microwaves and an oven. Each one works differently. With some of them you hit “clock” twice, others no. One has “AM” “PM,” others no. One oven screen says hit the “Cancel” button, but there’s no “Cancel” button. Another attempt starts the carousel turning.

Of course, one could figure out the differences among these units by digging out the manuals or by trial and error. Most choose the latter, and eventually things do work out. However, it will take the patience of Thomas Edison.

Moving on to the digital phones: File through the menu and eventually find “Time Set.”

More trial and error until the new time remains permanent.

Next, there’s the wall clock and perhaps two thermostats. They are easily done as compared to what has just taken place in the kitchen. Don’t forget the mantel timepiece with the turning balls. Oops! it won’t restart. Keep fiddling, and if it fails, head for the House of Clocks before the wife finds out.

Now to the master bedroom and change the digital clock. One needs a flashlight to read the fine print on the side. Where is that thing? Clicking the button on the clock moves the numerals too quickly. Back up and try again.

There’s another timepiece on the office desk, and don’t forget at least two watches.

Now to the garage. There’s a water softener that needs attention with another menu that makes no sense. Again, through trial and error, find the time set. Another one down and on to the next venture. It’s the automatic sprinkler system. Click, click and another job is completed.

Check your blood pressure. The systolic measurement has risen 30 points. Down a glass of red wine and move to the next station, which contains your two automobiles. Find the owners manuals and figure out how to correct the dash clocks. Don’t forget the daughter’s car. Of course, she is clueless as to what happened to her clock instructions.

“I may have thrown the manual out to make more room in the glove compartment,” she sadly says with a teenage whine.

But you’re still not finished. Head for the backyard and reset the pool pump timer. Oh, and redo the garden and security lights as well. Thank goodness the TVs, computers and cell phones automatically change on their own.

Check your blood pressure again. Seems to be leveling off until you realize the same change ritual must take place in your office and vacation home. Down another glass of wine and be prepared to waste another Sunday next week.

A painful ritual is finally completed. But wait: Now it suddenly dawns on you.

It’s a realization that you’ve made a terrible mistake: All the clocks must be set FORWARD this time of year, not BACKWARD. At this point, you burst into tears while downing the entire bottle of Manischewitz.

A few hours later, your wife finds you passed out by the pool.

“Hey, wake up!” she says. “You forget the clock on the garage wall and the one by the pool.”

But you don’t bother to change them. Instead you pick up the phone, call your favorite real estate agent and make arrangements to leave California as soon as possible.

“At least in Arizona, I’ll never have to go through this again,” is your final conclusion to a biannual, unmitigated living nightmare.