Spring forward, they say. Sure. More like lurch forward for me. Here we are, five days since the time change and I’m still bleary-eyed and yawning the day away. It got me to wondering if we say bless you after something sneezes, what are we supposed to say when someone yawns? My first instinct is to say, “I agree.” Other options – smart-alecky ones I’ve heard over the years and have myself used depending on the situation – include, “Am I keeping you awake?” or “Am I boring you?” or “Stop, you’ll make me yawn, too.”

Nevertheless, that’s me this week and it’s especially embarrassing when I’m at a meeting and make a futile attempt at yawning quietly without opening my mouth too wide, which I’ve found is just as noticeable (just ask my high school algebra teacher).

I promised myself I wouldn’t rant about the whole idea of changing the clocks twice a year, but I still think if we’re going to keep doing it we should do it a little bit at a time, like moving the clock up only 10 minutes each day for six days. Result: less yawning on Monday.

On second thought, never mind. That’s six times I would have to climb up on the counter to change the kitchen clock.

But that’s not all. We have time clocks and sundials and seem to be lost without a watch, whether it be pocket or wrist. We have clocks in our cars and clocks on our phones. You can’t get away from it. It’s enough to drive one crazy, which is probably why the Swiss came up with their idea of cuckoo clocks.

Speaking of nostalgia, and I’ve said this before, all this makes me kind of envy the days before the railroads came and every town and village had its own more-or-less time zone. Socorro’s town clock at the plaza is reminiscent of those old days, I suppose, but I wonder how many people actually walk up and set their watches by it.

Back in the old days, there would be a sundial of some sort and wind-up clocks would be set at noon when the sun was at its highest point on the dial.  And that was for people who needed to know, like when to open the bank or when Gary Cooper was to face the bad guys at High Noon. Oh sure, people had pocket watches and grandfather clocks which were used so Ma could tell Pa, “supper in ten minutes,” but otherwise standardized timekeeping wasn’t important until mass transit came along.

Meantime, down here on earth we’ll be heading into spring on Sunday. The vernal equinox happens at 9:33 a.m. on March 20 this year, when the Earth’s northern hemisphere starts tilting sunward. The vernal equinox is just a time and space thing. Like the poet said once, “time is just conceptual, movement is perpetual.”

Have you heard the old myth of the egg and the equinox? The logic is that since day and night are balanced – each 12 hours long – an egg will stay balanced on its end at the exact moment of the vernal equinox. Even though that logic is illogical I tried it anyway.

Speaking of eggs, the vernal equinox can actually be used to figure out when Easter is. Just remember that it’s the first Sunday after the first full moon after the equinox. Or you can look on the calendar (it’s the day after the city’s Easter Egg Hunt).

In this electioneering year, I’m doing my best to avoid thinking about politics and especially the back-and-forth discourses on anti-social media. Consider the observation of  the distinguished American philosopher Groucho Marx, “Politics is the art of looking for trouble, finding it everywhere, diagnosing it incorrectly, and applying the wrong remedies.”

And one more thing, don’t forget to practice up on your Irish brogue today, Saint Patrick’s Day or if you prefer, San Patricio’s Day, the annual feast day celebrating the patron saint of Ireland, when pretty near everyone lays claims to have some sort of Irish branch on their family tree.

Legend has it that if you wear green, you are invisible to fairies and leprechauns, so if you’re not wearing green, people have the responsibility of pinching you to remind you to be on the lookout, lest a leprechaun sneaks up on you and steals your gold. Or something like that.

And hey, just keep in mind that the pinching thing could backfire on you and get you arrested for assault.

On a personal note, my latest ancestry DNA test shows me 21 percent Irish extraction. Which means I’m allowed to drink one-fifth a pint of Guinness.

And impart my favorite Irish blessing:

“May you get all your wishes but one,

So you always have something to strive for.”

John Larson, El Defensor Chieftain