So I was deep, deep in sleep this morning at 4:32am. I remember the dream had something to do with debate, as I was making a very strong point. Now, it may have been about how horses with wings are clearly worth more than horses in roller skates (you know how dreams are), but the point is I was in deep sleep. REM sleep.
   Then…my BlackBerry starts loudly proclaming the arrival of…a text message. Yes, a text message at 4:32am. Now, I leave it on at night because at times I need to receive messages, say, from my daughter, if she is traveling. My parents are older, so I keep the phone nearby. But generally, I get to sleep through the night. Not today. See, I gave my cell number to a friend. He’s still a friend, don’t get me wrong. But you see, he lives on the East Coast. I live in Phoenix. People on the East Coast often don’t know where Phoenix actually is. It’s on the other side of the Big River (the Mississippi), so its exact location isn’t overly relevant. But what is more, what time zone it is in is not relevant, either. Folks on the East Coast do seem to realize that they should stop and think a bit before calling someone in California, because they realize there is a three hour difference there. But since Phoenix isn’t in California, well, the time difference doesn’t matter.
   You see, Eastern Time Zone folks are…time snobs. Yes, there is a thing called time snobbery. It’s when you think your time zone rules everyone else’s. Time snobbery. And it is time to speak out about it!
   Now, I should note that folks on the West Coast do the same thing in reverse. They will often call folks in the East Coast way, way late at night for the very same “my time zone is really all that matters” reason. But East Coasters seem to be more infected with this idea, since, from their perspective, everything takes place in their time anyway. They are the “standard.” And besides, New York is in their time zone, hence, does anything else matter?
   Now, the folks in “fly over” territory, the folks in the Central Time Zone, are the least time-snobbish of anyone. That is because you almost never see anything announced in their time zone. You see “9pm Eastern, 6pm Pacific,” and the poor folks in the middle are just expected to “do the math.” Central time zone folks suffer from clear time-discrimination by time snobs in the Eastern and Pacific time zones. And since Mountain time only includes the likes of Wyoming and New Mexico…well, MST is the red-headed stepchild of time zones, to be sure. Eastern time snobs generally don’t even mention MST. It’s irrelevant. A literal “waste of time.”
   Now we in Arizona are some of the few folks in the world who honor time. See, we realize that clocks do not determine what time it is: time is independent of clocks. Clocks are just instruments. Turning your clock back, or forward, an hour, does not actually impact time, just your perception thereof. So we in Arizona don’t play with our clocks. We don’t pretend that moving the hands around is actually changing anything. Time is time, and we honor it as such. Hence, for about 8 months out of the year now, our honoring of time means that our clocks read the same as the folks on the West Coast. The other four months or so we synch up with Mountain time. In other words, we are always MST. Period. Ah, the glory of consistency.
   Now, my friend was texting me because he not only suffers from time snobbery, and hence it never crossed his mind that 7:32 his time would be 4:32 mine, but he also suffers from being a…Cubs fan. And you see, I live in Phoenix, and the Arizona DiamondBacks had the best record in the NL, and hence are playing the Cubs in the first round of the MLB playoffs. Now, ever since the commissioner of the NBA handed the 06/07 season to the Spurs, I haven’t cared a bit about pro sports. I really haven’t. It’s a racket and I just don’t care anymore. I ceased being a fan of anything, NBA, NFL, MLB, whatever. But I admit I’m pulling for the D’Backs for two reasons: 1) I was here when they started, so, at least I’ve been consistent, and 2) I can’t name a single person on their team. Seriously. Right now, this season, they are a bunch of young guys, no big super-stars, no $100 million dynasty guys, just a buncha young guys playing for the love of the game (how is THAT for unusual anymore). So, it’s easy to root for them over against the over-paid, pampered super stars that fill the rosters of other teams. Yes, I know…they will almost all fall into that same trap themselves if they do well, so hey, does it really matter? But for this season, it’s easy to root for them to beat the massively over-paid guys on the other squads.
   So, the time-snobbery-originated text message that rudely woke me up at 4:32am this morning was a poor, deluded time-snob Cubs fan informing me that “the D’Backs are going down tonight!” Well, maybe they will. I won’t be watching. I’ll be at church, Lord willing, and other than that, prepping for next week (cruise/debate). But I did learn one lesson from this morning: be careful who you give your cell number to. If they are on the East Coast, you might wish to have them tested for time snobbery before you hand over that number.

(Anyone not reading this entire thing as the humorous piece it is supposed to be needs to take a remedial course in contextualized reading).

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