I was race-walking down thirty-second street tonight, trying to make the 6:37 home. As I approached Penn Station, I focused on the digital clock embedded in the concrete awning that theoretically serves as a useful indicator as to How You’re Doing, with respect to catching your train.

It read 7:29.

Now, I know I’m not living in Switzerland, but you’d think that the clocks at the second largest train station in the largest goddamned city in the USA could get the friggin’ clocks set correctly for Monday’s rush hour, following the whole complicated transition from EDT to EST.

I wear a watch, obviously, but you know, it’s the principle of the thing.