In the beginning, there was darkness.
In the middle, there was light.
And the light shone on the coppery dome of the
most dominant building in Three Cheese, Wisconsin.
Yes, the roof of the Westclox Savings and Loan gleamed.
And the people squinted from the glare
as they drove down the gently sloping Main Street.
The sight was pleasing to the richest man in Three Cheese, Wisconsin, for he was the banker, and business was good.
Alas, there came a day of reckoning.
And this day was called Tax day.
The richest man couldn’t pay his taxes.
So he took the money from the bank, to pay the tax man.
Lo and behold! The tax man caught the banker dipping into the till (so to speak).
And the tax man fined the banker the tenth part of every account held in escrow.
This angered the good, law-abiding citizens of Three Cheese, Wisconsin.
And they rebelled.
Yea, they fought back, ripping the copper from the roof and selling it to the smithy.
And darkness fell.
For the people, in their zealotry, had cut off their noses to spite their plastic surgeons.
In so doing, they robbed themselves of the very light that shone like a beacon, anchoring the city to the map that otherwise would have swallowed it whole - with crackers.
It came to pass that the smithy felt shame.
He smote his breast and tore his chest hair.
He vowed to restore the copper roof.
After 40 days, 40 nights and 40 gallons of cheap wine,
the smithy completed his task.
And there was light.
The good citizens were upset. They killed the smithy.
Thereafter, in honor of the courageous smithy,
cities all over Wisconsin celebrated the Time of the Light.
They did this by ripping all the copper from the rooftops, then paying the local smithy to repair them!
Many years later, the Mayor of Baby Swiss, Wisconsin got a bright idea (so to speak.)
Rather than going through the expense of ripping and repairing shiny rooftops, he told his subjects to set their clocks forward.
This simple act forced them out of bed a little earlier, but it also allowed them to see the gleaming glare of coppery rooftops a little longer.
As it happened that this ritual coincided with Tax Day, the compound effect (you should pardon the pun) of the pending Solstice meant longer, sunny days.
Nobody knows how “Savings” got into the mix.
The fact that this all began with a bank is purely a coincidence.
This late-night tomfoolery was inspired by Darius, who asked, in all seriousness, no doubt:
Why Do We Have Daylight Savings Time?