The Great Pumpkin bumps into The Giant Meteor
Strolling through the grocery store this past week served as a reminder that the holiday was upon us.
Traditional decorations festooned the aisles, as theme-specific tchotchkes, greeting cards and treats stood ready to be purchased.
Yep … it was Christmas season all right.
Halloween? Been there, done that, handed out (most of) the Junior Mints.
The only thing missing in the store were Christmas carols providing the background music, in between reminders to wear our (non-Halloween) masks and practice safe-shopping.
However, between Halloween and Christmas, our calendars will be filled with events that best not escape our notice lest they use their combined strength to overwhelm us to the point where we will barely have enough energy left to return undesirable gifts before New Year’s Day.
This Tuesday is Election Day. Folks in Shady Cove have a City Council race to decide, while voters across Jackson County will assess how well the Assessor has been, well, assessing things.
It also means it will be 1 year and 6 days, or 12.2 months, or 53.0 weeks, or 371 days, or 8,904 hours, or 534,240 minutes, or (if you really want to get down to the nitty gritty) 32,054,400 seconds until the 2022 Midterm Elections … duhn-duhn-duhnnnnn … when Giant Meteor is expected to win in a landslide.
Or cause one.
As long as we’re spending a few minutes on hours and so forth, a week from today we will have sprung into our fallback position as Daylight Saving Time goes into effect.
Now, I know what you’re thinking … shouldn’t this year, of all years, be the one where we’re allowed to fall forward? Particularly onto a comfy mattress or swimming pool?
And if you’re not thinking that … perhaps somewhere in the catacombs of your memory banks you seem to recall Oregon having decided to end this folderol and fiddledeedee about re-setting clocks.
And you’d be correct … that was back in 2019 — or, as it’s known as now, the “good old days.”
Oregon did decide to become permanently affixed to Daylight Saving Time … on two conditions.
First, Oregon would make DST permanent as long as California and Washington state followed suit — thereby uniting the Pacific Coast on more than just the universal fear of earthquakes.
Well, that indeed did happen … the Daylight Saving decision, not the quakes … which meant that all that was needed for us to find an alternative reminded for changing the batteries in our smoke alarms was approval by Congress.
That would be the United States Congress, those fine women and men back in Washington, D.C., who can’t even come together over a bill to shore up the nation’s infrastructure.
So, let’s just say that the road to ending Daylight Saving Time is paved with good intentions — or, well, it would be if Congress would cross that bridge when they come to it.
Is it any wonder Giant Meteor is leading in the 2022 polls … and None of the Above is running second?
Where all this left me was wandering the grocery aisles, looking for where they’ve hid the cereal this week and starting to hum my favorite Thanksgiving songs.
If you, however, need something to pass the time between now and then — whichever then awaits you — you’re in luck, because it’s Christmas movie season once more on your televisions.
This year, Hallmark, Lifetime and a plethora of broadcast, cable and streaming providers have combined to produce … you’d better sit down for this … an astounding 136 holiday movies for your enjoyment.
That 11.3 days, or 272 hours, or 16,320 minutes, or 979,200 seconds spent wondering whether a last-minute misunderstanding was going to keep our star-crossed couple from realizing true love before the music swells and that annoying woman in the red sweater shows up to remind you to buy a new car.
I’m torn between “The Enchanted Christmas Cake,” “1,000 Miles From Christmas,” or “The Nine Kittens of Christmas” as the title I’m most intrigued by among this year’s avalanche of holiday cheer — all of which featuring That Guy Who Used To Star In That Show In The 90s and That Gal From That Series Of Light-Hearted Movie Mysteries.
I’m usually not one to complain … wait, what? … but if we’re awake at 2 a.m. on Nov. 7 to change the clocks back to 1 a.m., must we be bombarded with “Pride, Prejudice & Mistletoe” at the same time?
Now, THAT is a job for Congress.
There are only 21 shopping days until “Get Off My Lawn” returns to email@example.com