Monday, March 09, 2009

Lost in time

I use the internet as my primary news source now, having left my subscription to the local Kansas City Star inactive for more than a year. I also frequently watch the 5:00 / 5:30 nightly news, if I'm close to my TV at that time.

My news consumption has a large blind spot, it would appear. On Saturday, I spent at least 13 hours on a charter bus being ferried up to Sioux Falls in South Dakota for a basketball tournament. Not that I play the sport, however; our women's team qualified for the first round of the Summit League. We arrived in a chilly Sioux Falls at about 1:30 pm, changed clothes, played in the pep band, watched the team lose, and were back in Kansas City by 1:00 AM. Had we won, the band would have been "invited" to stay in a hotel, but losers (and their musical groups) have no perks.

Before heading up to Sioux Falls, I checked on the weather. It's been unseasonably warm in KC, and I was almost certain that it'd be colder six hours north of here. I'm clever in that way. Sure enough, the forecast was below freezing (with occasional snow). I packed heavier clothing. Before the bus had even left KC, one of the cheerleaders (with whom we shared the bus) said, "I hope it's not cold up there; I'll be very upset."

She was wearing an article of torso clothing that I'd seen before, but I didn't know what to call it. After three minutes at www.oldnavy.com, I determined that it MIGHT be a cami (short for camisole). I couldn't find anything there that looked exactly right, so it will just have to be one of those things were the true image is locked forever in my head, without the words to effectively communicate. The actual article of clothing is irrelevant, as long as it is understood to be a very sheer garment with satin-like straps, fantastically unsuitable for South Dakota (or even Kansas City, amazingly) in March.

But enough about women's quasi-undergarments. After waking up at 5:30 AM on Saturday, and returning to bed at 1:30 AM on Sunday, I was pretty well tired. Despite the length of time on the bus, I had almost no opportunity to sleep. I've never been particularly good at sleeping in moving transportation, unless I'm completely exhausted. Plus, the cheerleaders kept feeding in increasingly strange movies continuously, with the volume forced high enough to command attention. I definitely need to invest in a good portable media player before too long.

When I woke up on Sunday morning, my bedroom clock said 8:30 AM or so. Being conscious seemed like a heavy burden, but I was paradoxically not tired, so I went into my living room and sat at my computer, still groggy with morning. I browsed the internet for a while before I noticed that the time was now 9:50! Had I spent more than an hour? It surely seemed like less. In fact it was less, because the time changed on Sunday morning.

I don't consider myself uninformed. As I alluded earlier, I consume a great deal of news on the internet and on the radio (via NPR). I know about the 9-year old's abortion and excommunication in Brazil, I followed the withdrawl of Sanjay Gupta from consideration for surgeon general, and I've been keeping tabs on the bailout payments to AIG. But somehow I missed the fact that this was the weekend for a time change. Caught me *completely* by surprise. Fortunately, it turned out I didn't have anything to do on Sunday morning, so my ignorance of the true time had no ill effects. Aside of making me feel like I'd been missing something.

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