Now that we’re on the verge of falling back into Standard Time — or “God’s time,” as some would have it — the fingers of blame for the senseless exercise called Daylight Saving will soon be wagging again. And, as they have done for more than a century, many of those digits will point “out there” toward the countryside and rural areas where the backward and ignorant farmers who came up with the idea reside.

This, of course, is contrary to what I know about Daylight Saving. All the farmers I’ve met or have heard from on the matter have been pretty much opposed to a scheme that pushes morning chores an hour deeper into darkness in order to afford bankers, doctors and Congressmen an extra hour of golf in the evening.

City folk, according to Michael Downing in his history of Daylight Saving Time titled Spring Forward, frequently blame farmers for wanting “more daylight for their chores.” But when Daylight Saving was first proposed early in the 20th century farmers were the loudest voices against the idea.

“From the first, farmers opposed Daylight Saving, which was an urban idea of a good idea, hatched in London and cultivated in the cities of Europe and the northern United States,” he explains.

After Daylight Saving was first enacted in the U.S. in 1917 (by the same Congress that committed a relcutant nation to World War I and Prohibition) it was farm organizations that lobbied for and achieved its repeal in 1919, overriding a veto by President Woodrow Wilson.

“Farmers dominated the debate,” Downing points out, “permanently wedding themselves to DS in the public’s imagination.” Most folks couldn’t remember, or figure out, if farmers were for or against Daylight Saving, but they were impressed with how much it concerned the rural community. So, whichever way the issue went, farmers were assumed to the winners.

After its repeal, Daylight Saving was still observed in a few states (Massachusetts, Rhode Island) and some cities (New York, Philadelphia, Chicago, and others), but there was no national effort to control the clock until President Franklin Roosevelt instituted year-round “War Time” as a conservation effort from February of 1942 to September, 1945.

Whether Daylight Saving was an effective means of conserving fuel during the war years, or at any time, has never been proven. Proponents claim that longer evenings conserve energy that would be used for heating and lighting homes an extra hour, while opponents note that schools, dairies, factories and early risers eat up any savings in the extra hour of morning darkness. And all the while, energy consumption in general has grown and grown and grown.

The conservation argument persuaded President Richard Nixon to sign the Emergency Daylight Saving Time Energy Conservation Act of 1973, setting clocks ahead an hour for 15 straight months in 1974-75. By the time the clocks were turned back, Nixon was no longer president and no one could remember any energy “emergency.”

Similarly, the Daylight Saving Time most of America has observed since 1966 — the last Sunday of April to the last Sunday of October — is being extended by two weeks on both ends under the Energy Policy Act of 2005 signed by President George Bush in order to “conserve energy.”

In times of national crisis, when soldiers are dying and children are endangered and levees need shoring up, America’s leaders have repeatedly moved the clock forward, as if advancing the hour would help see us through troubled times more quickly.

There’s really no changing time, of course, unless we greatly accelerate our speed.

The amount of daylight stays pretty much the same from year to year, no matter how we set our clocks. Claiming to save daylight by taking an hour from one end of the day and putting it on the other is like cheating at solitaire and telling yourself you won.

Messing with our clocks distracts us from the more pressing issues at hand, which is why politicians repeatedly return to the Daylight Saving solution and so many folks fall back to blaming 2 million American farmers for making it easier for 60 million American golfers to squeeze in an extra hour on the links before sunset.

Out of the Past
Spring Forward
Spring Forward by Michael Downing
Michael Hofferber

Post from: Out of the Past

This Santa Claus is certainly a magical fellow. He flies through the sky, is rarely seen outside of shopping malls, possesses an uncanny intelligence about who has been naughty or nice, and has a seemingly inexhaustible supply of toys.

Some say he is descended — or evolved — from Kris Kringle, a legendary figure from Norse folk tales. Or perhaps he’s related to Odin, the Lord of the Winds who rode through the stormy nights on an eight-legged flying horse.

In her collection of holiday lore, “Yule: A Celebration of Light and Warmth,” author Dorothy Morrison traces the lineage of Santa Claus and other holiday season traditions back to some of mankind’s earliest civilizations. Despite differences in language, culture and religion, most peoples celebrate some form of winter holiday.

“Each celebration is a little different, but the main ideas are the same,” she points out. “These holidays provide us with a time for reflection, resolution, and renewal. A time for gift-giving, goodwill, and kindness.”

Santa Claus, and his generous cousins in other lands, is the perfect expression of that spirit of joy and sharing. In the Netherlands, Sinterklaas arrives by steamboat with his servant, Black Peter, and in Syria the gifts for children are delivered by an immortal camel.

“Santa’s sleigh is more than likely a holdover from the Norse myth of Freya,” Morrison explains. “Legend has it that every year she spent the twelve days immediately following the Solstice giving gifts to the nice and doling out misery to the naughty. Her mode of transportation? Why, a chariot drawn by stags, of course!”

Like layers of paint on a canvas, the ideas and fantasies of the past both color and give texture to the realities and pretenses of the present. And nowhere is this more evident than in our homes and shops and neighborhoods during the winter holidays:

* Candles, embraced by Christians as a symbol of Christ, were also important fixtures of the winter festivals of ancient Rome.

* Candy canes, invented by an American confectioner, represent Jesus with their “J” form and blood-red stripe.

* Lights have decorated homes and trees for centuries, urging the sun to shine through winter’s darkness, but it was an American inventor who hung up the first string of electric holiday lighting in 1895.

* Mistletoe was used in winter celebrations by ancient Greeks and Celts, but kissing beneath a sprig of the plant began as a way to receive the blessings of the Norse goddess Frigg.

* Poinsettia, known for centuries as the Flower of the Holy Night, is the product of a Mexican myth about a young boy who wanted to give the Christ child a special gift.

Santa Claus moved to the North Pole sometime after he started making visits to American homes. And now, from the darkest, coldest place on earth comes the kindest, jolliest man in the world to spread joy and gifts and warmth.

Post from: Out of the Past

“My Christmas was bean soup without bread. The boys are not seeing a good deal of fun,” wrote Johnny Jackman in his diary 146 years ago.

A trooper in the 9th Kentucky of the Confederacy, Jackman’s lean Christmas was shared by thousands of other young American men in 1863.

Food supplies for the armies of the Civil War were usually limited to the basics and deprivations were common. If they filled their journals with reviews of their meals it was because these events were often the highlight of an otherwise dismal day.

In 1864, Jackman’s Christmas holiday was a little brighter: fresh pork, baked sweet potatoes, hardtack.

Civil War historian William C. Davis compiled an authoritative record of the conflict’s cuisine, describing the menus of the camp commissaries and how selected dishes were prepared.

“The Civil War Cookbook” combines historic photographs and reportage with handsome studio portraits of meals and kitchen accoutrements. More than four dozen authentic Civil War era recipes are included, from Southern gumbo and rice bread to Yankee doughnuts.

The sweet potatoes Johnny Jackman referred to in his diary may have been prepared as sweet potato pudding for holiday fare. Here’s the recipe Davis found:

Sweet Potato Pudding
6 medium-sized sweet potatoes (white or orange-fleshed)
1 C milk
1 C sugar
3 eggs
Juice of a lemon
1 tsp cinnamon

Boil the potatoes for 30 minutes until soft and mash with the milk to a smooth consistency. Add the sugar, eggs, lemon juice, and cinnamon, and beat until smooth. Pour into a shallow, lightly buttered dish and bake in a moderate oven (375 degrees) for 30 minutes. Serves 4.

The old maxim that an army marches “on its stomach” was certainly appropriate for the Civil War, whose outcome may have been decided in the camp kitchens as much as on the battlefields. Union kitchens were almost always better supplied than their Confederate counterparts, and consequently their soldiers ate more heartily.

A Union solder’s Christmas was often more festive, writes Davis, “with their mess tables or camp kettles groaning with turkeys, chickens, hams, and special issues of vegetables, supplemented by goodies sent from home and goods locally purchased from sutlers and farmers.”

Beef steaks were cooked over an open fire according to the following recipe:

Beef Steaks

2 Tbsps butter or oil
2 beef steaks (best quality available)
3 onionsBlack pepper
Mixed herbs
Fresh horseradish

Beats the steaks with a mallet. Peel the onions and cut into thick circles. Heat the butter or oil in a large frying pan, when hot place the steaks in the center of the pan and surround with onion slices. Sprinkle the steaks and onions with the pepper and herbs and fry quickly over a high heat to required doneness, turning halfway through. When the steaks are almost ready, sprinkle over some grated horseradish. Serve the steaks straight from the pan. Serves 2.

Captain William Seymour of the Confederacy’s famed “Louisiana Tigers” is quoted from his diary on Christmas Eve, 1864. It was a cold night at Raccoon Ford, Virginia, and Seymour had been warming his toes by the campstove.

“We had made up our mind to go egg-nogless to bed, when — about 11 o’clock — the welcome sound of horses hoofs on the crisp snow outside; out we rushed and there we found the tardy ‘Mose’ with his well-filled demijohn. The eggs were quickly beaten — the sugar stirred in and then the whiskey added, and we had one of the most delicious nogs that ever mortal man quaffed.”

Davis offers the following recipe for the treat Seymour so enjoyed:

Egg Nog

4 egg yolks
4 Tbsps sugar
1 C cream (whipping)
1 C brandy
1/4 C wine
4 egg whites
A little grated nutmeg

Beat the egg yolks until light, then slowly beat in the sugar, cream, brandy and wine. Whip the egg whites separately and then fold into the other ingredients. Sprinkle with nutmeg to serve.

* Book Stall: The Civil War Cookbook by William C. Davis

Post from: Out of the Past

Christmas trees are decorated with lights that ward off the darkness of winter. Wreathes hanging on doors symbolize the circle of the seasons. Rem

Mistletoe Decoration

inders of the Christian holiday (stars, manger scenes, candles) and the spirit of giving (Santa Claus mugs, stockings, presents) are everywhere this time of year.

But why hang sprigs of mistletoe from ceilings? And why kiss people unexpectedly as they pass beneath some waxy green leaves and white berries?

The mistletoe tradition is one of the more unusual trappings of the Christmas season, a curious leftover from ancient solstice rituals and Roman feasts.

Mistletoe is a parasite, growing from the branches of trees. It sucks water and nutrients from its host, sometimes destroying the tree or distorting its growth.

Birds like cedar waxwings help propogate the plant. They eat the mistletoe’s berries but don’t digest the seeds. Their droppings carry the germ of new mistletoe to tree limbs far and wide. Early-day Scandinavians called the plant “mistilteinn,” derived from “mista,” meaning dung.

From this lowly origin, mistletoe somehow became associated with hope, peace, and harmony. Perhaps because it blooms late in the year and shows berries in winter the mistletoe has attracted a lot of attention.

Among the mysterious Druids, who inhabited the British Isles centuries ago, mistletoe was a plant of

particular honor and power. Enemies who chanced to meet beneath a tree with mistletoe growing on it were required to lay down their arms and forget their quarrel. Sprigs of the plant were hung in the home for harmony and good luck and outside the house to welcome visitors.

Mistletoe was “omnia sanitatem” to the Druids, meaning “all healing.” They prescribed it as a cure for female infertility and as an antidote for poison.

In Scandinavian legends, mistletoe belonged to Frigga, the goddess of love. It was the only organism in the world from which Baldur, a son of the chief god Odin, was not protected. A dart made from mistletoe brought Baldur down to earth.

Kissing beneath the mistletoe may have started with the Druids, or perhaps the Romans who used the plant as a decorative green at their winter parties. By 1520 it was common enough in England that the writer William Irving suggested that young men should pick a berry each time they kissed a young girl beneath the mistletoe.

The Catholic Church, during the fourth century, forbade the use of mistletoe at Christmastime because of its “idolatrous” associations, and that forbearance has lingered in Christian churches to this day. But in many secular households where Christmas is celebrated the mistletoe still lingers,like a virus that won’t be shaken. Its tendrils wind their way through human history, carried on the wings of birds.

• Out of the Past: The Mystery of Mistletoe

Post from: Out of the Past

Originally a candidate for the Republican Party in 1912, Roosevelt won a series of primaries that gave him a lead in party delegates going into the Republican Convention. But the incumbent president, William Howard Taft, controlled the convention floor and his backers excluded most of the Roosevelt delegates by not recognizing their credentials.

Enraged by these actions, Roosevelt consequently refused to allow himself to be nominated, allowing Taft to win on the first ballot.

Roosevelt and his supporters abandoned the G.O.P. two weeks later and formed the Progressive Party, under which he contended for the presidency against Taft, labor leader Eugene Debs of the Socialist Party ticket, and Democrat Woodrow Wilson.

The Progressives won 27.4% of the popular vote and 88 electoral votes from six states, an unprecedented achievement for a third party, but the presidency went to Wilson.

Although it took a new generation to accomplish them, most of the key elements of Roosevelt’s social platform were achieved and became keystones in American society. National health insurance remains an exception.

Out of the Past

Post from: Out of the Past

More than 160 years have passed since the first of some 300,000 emigrants started a massive migration across the heartland of North America to the continent’s Pacific shores. Beginning in Independence, Missouri, and ending in Oregon City, Oregon, the “Oregon Trail” stretched for 2,000 miles across six states.

Tracks from this passage are still embedded in the Snake River Plain not far from here. I’ve walked in them several times, pressing my feet where wagon wheels and oxen and well-worn boots once tread, and it continues to astonish me that so many people would give up their homes back East and travel so far with so little assurance of a better life at the far end of their seven-month journey.

This was no pleasure cruise, nor a mere “Adventure in Moving,” as U-Haul used to advertise its rental vans and trailers. The folks who followed the Oregon Trail met violent winds, quicksand, floods, buffalo stampedes, disease and Indian attacks. Nearly 10 percent, or roughly 30,000 of them, lost their lives on the trail. Of those that survived, many suffered the loss of livestock, personal fortunes and prized belongings.

What’s also hard to fathom is the fact that precious little of the land that the survivors laid claim to at the end of their arduous journeys remains with their ancestors today.

Truth is, a great number of those who followed the Oregon Trail to Oregon did not stay. Promoters failed to mention the rain and swindlers and privations associated with homesteading. Some folks moved on to California. Others returned to the homes they left behind, throwing themselves at the mercy of their relatives and friends.

“Settlers” is an inaccurate description of most who made these journeys; “unsettled” is a fairer adjective and “backtrackers” is what others on the trail called them. Some used the trail three or four times, following their dreams back and forth, back and forth.

Backtracking is so common among Americans, in fact, that it’s almost a cultural trait. Nearly a third of us will change residences in the next two years and many others will feel they should have. In every move, there’s one overriding reason like a better job or bad neighbors or a longing to return to someplace familiar or a pining for someplace new.

We get tired of the old haunts, but once we’ve moved we miss them. We run from the provincialism of rural life only to be repulsed later by what we find in the city or suburb.

Like young Huck Finn, we fear being “sivilized” by Tom Sawyer’s Aunt Sally and are determined to “light out for the Territory” if anyone starts making demands.

This is the urge that blazed the Oregon Trail, I believe. It prompted a goodly portion of 19th century Americans to leave their farms and friends and families for an uncertain future in the Territory. By its energy a continent was populated. Because of its endurance our souls remain unsettled.

Post from: Out of the Past

At the core of the conflict is the reality that redress for the Jewish victims of centuries of European pogroms, which culminated in the Holocaust, made victims out of Palestinians, non-Europeans who had nothing to do with the repression of Jews on the Continent….

…the majority of Gaza’s inhabitants are refugees (or their descendants) who were displaced from their homes in 1947-1948 in what was then Palestine and is now Israel…

History teaches that justice is a prerequisite for peace, and that truth is a prerequisite for justice. Understanding what is happening today in Gaza — another chapter in a seemingly endless cycle of vengeance — requires an understanding of what happened in 1947-1948. Absent an acknowledgment of the truths of the past, there can be no agreement on the future.

by Tarif Abboushi
commentary in the Houston Chronicle

Post from: Out of the Past

Post from: Out of the Past

Historically, bear markets are followed with powerful rallies. According to Prudential Investment Management, in the past nine bear markets (going back to the 1950’s), when the market declined substantially as the economy contracted, the average first year recovery saw a 36% return. The following year showed a 12% average return.

For example, the recession of 1973-1974, triggered by the oil embargo and quadrupling oil prices, and coupled with the Watergate scandal, the Nixon resignation and Vietnam War spending, had the country in a very gloomy mood. People anticipated the worst and spoke of the end of the American era. The following year, the Dow Jones Industrial Average climbed 38%, and the year after that an additional 21%. The steep ‘81-’82 declines brought about by the massive failure of the savings and loans industry and high interest rates aimed at choking inflation, was followed by a 58% first year recovery. In October 2002, the market indices bottomed after the collapse of the great tech bubble, and in the wake of the terrorist attacks of September 11th, concurrent with corporate scandals such as the bankruptcy of Enron. The following year saw a 34% rise in the S&P 500.

by Alan Schram
Posted on The Huffington Post December 16, 2008 | 09:28 PM (EST)

Post from: Out of the Past

In the year 1874, patents for barbed wire and for a machine for making it were taken out by J.F. Glidden of De Kalb, Illinois. By 1880 barbed-wire factories in the United States were turning out forty thousand tons of the cheap fencing; by 1890 this output had tripled.

In the early eighties the practice of enclosing portions of the public domain with this cheap and easy fencing spread so rapidly that the whole range industry was in danger of being strangled to death in a web of its own making. Trail herds on their way to the railroads or to distant ranges, found long drift fences barring their path. Long-established routes of travel were blocked and mail carriers complained that they were forced to detour around some cattleman’s enclosure. A Texas governor was forced to ask the state legislature to free the county seat of Jones County, which was completely circumscribed by a fence, fifteen miles distant, having but two gates…

The din raised over this evidence of the cattleman’s greed finally moved Congress. In 1885 a law was passed designed to expedite prosecution of those who stretched fences out upon the public domain. Under the law, suits were instituted in the range country, and the illegal fences began to come down. But they never entirely disappeared.

• The Day of the Cattleman
• Between Fences: Smithsonian Institution Traveling Exhibition

Post from: Out of the Past