OPINION: Sunshine and the livin's easy
June 22nd 1:25 pm | Carey Restino
It's sunny again. I have a real problem with sunny Tuesdays. I practically have to duct tape myself to my desk chair to make it through the crunch of putting out newspapers when it is endlessly beautiful like this in Alaska.
It's particularly bad this year. While my brain is doing its best to forget last winter, there is a lingering franticness to this summer — a hangover of sorts after a winter that left so much snow that at 1,200 feet, there are still heaps where 15-foot-high snow piles once grew on either side of my road. This week is summer solstice, and I plan to go make a snow man in that snow, take a picture of it, just to commemorate the madness that was the winter of 2012. And then I plan to watch it melt with glee. Looking through some pictures with friends last night, it's hard to believe that in April, we were still in the thick of it. Now everything is green and leafy and warm (sometimes).
On the other hand, it's a little crazy at this time of year. I went to bed last night at 2:30 a.m. It didn't seem like a big deal. There was a campfire, and it was still light-ish and why not, right? Last week, I went hiking and we didn't hit the trail until 8 p.m., reaching our incredibly beautiful destination around 11 p.m. just as the sun was setting between high alpine ridges and a loon was calling. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world to be out then, enjoying the cool light of an Alaska "night".
I have guests right now, guests who haven't lived here for most of their lives and aren't used to the near-continuous daylight. They are a little thrown by the whole thing. They keep saying things like, "What time is it?" and "I went for a walk last night. Late," and "I can't seem to get to sleep, wonder why?" I wish I could help them, but I can't. I think, in the words of the great galactic wise men, resistance is futile.
And don't even get me started on the children. They are frazzled. The problem with kids is all the programs and events they go to daily don't seem to get the memo that they need to start after 10 a.m. Later actually, because what seems to make sense to my kids right now is to go to bed around 11:30 p.m., read till 12:30 p.m. and get up around 10 a.m. Why not, right? Well, because that dentist appointment at 9 a.m. hurts a lot more than it ought to when you are grumpy from lack of sleep, that's why.
So here's what I propose. Let's scrap Daylight Savings Time and institute Alaska Summer Time. From June through July, I propose set our clocks back four hours. That way, the 9 a.m. appointment would be at a reasonable 1 p.m. We'd be up, fed, refreshed and ready to say "aaahhh." Parents wouldn't have to feel guilty about putting the kids to bed late because it wouldn't be that late, really. And if it were at least not blazing sunshine sneaking through the edges of their curtains, kids might be able to actually get to sleep, right? And it's easier to stay asleep through sunshine than it is to fall asleep when it's at full mast, I argue.
I suppose it's a long shot, but if enough people lobbied around this effort, I'm sure it would work. Still, being a little sleep-deprived is just part of the Alaska experience. We can sleep later. I won't say when, because I'm not admitting that it's ever going to change. Right now, sunshine and light seem like the best gift a person who has been slogging through drifts for months could possibly get. My friends will catch up on their sleep on the long trip back from Alaska, and surely they will remember fondly the strangeness of spending a month in a place where you can mow your lawn at 11 p.m.
And my children? They'll bounce back. And for now, I get to enjoy two entire cups of tea on the deck before anyone rouses. Just the birds and I. What a glorious state!
Carey Restino can be reached at crestino@reportalaska.com.





