Part of the Extra Hour Was Spent Ascending Zep's Ethereal Stairway
Having never been an advocate of Daylight Savings Time, I usually dread the change of the clock. Obviously the fall change, when we gain an hour, is more welcomed than the hour lost in the spring.
This year, however, I decided to embrace the added sixty minutes, a span which would allow me to listen to some of my favorite songs that are too long to really enjoy during the crammed schedules of regular days. Here are the the eight songs I used to fill up the bonus hour this weekend, a list adding up to exactly sixty minutes.
I started the hour by greeting a character from The Beatles, Paul McCartney's tribute to John Lennon's son Julian. That segment took seven minutes and eleven seconds, thereby taking up over a tenth of the extra hour.
Before the big hand reached the three, I began the ascent on the “Stairway To Heaven.” After listening to Led Zeppelin's most well-known song for eight minutes and two seconds, I indeed felt as if I had reached the title destination.
I was still residing there, seemingly, for I met three lovely ladies in the next three songs. First up was the “Sad-Eyed Lady” from Bob Dylan's Blond on Blonde album, whose presence I was in for eleven minutes and fifty three seconds.
Next I spent exactly seven minutes and thirty eight seconds with Judy Blue Eyes, thanks to the musical Suite penned by Crosby Stills and Nash in tribute to folk singer Judy Collins. It was a band mate of CSN, however, who created the next woman I visited with during my bonus sixty minutes of November 7.
“Cowgirl in the Sand” was with me for ten minutes and thirteen seconds, via the Neil Young album Everyone Knows This Is Nowhere. That one sixth of an hour, besides the title charmer, also gave me a few minutes with Ruby in the Dust and the woman of my dreams.
The experience was nearly like a dream, what with the many rock legends I had already accompanied for the nearly the first half of the DST bonus. It became even more surreal when I took a trip to a physician, compliments of the Who.
From their Quadrophenia album I placed on the phonograph “Doctor Jimmy”, the most enjoyable seven minutes and fifty eight seconds I had ever spent in the presence of a sawbones. On the way home from that ecstatic check-up, I stopped in for a bite at one of the most famous eateries in rock history.
For seven minutes and forty seven seconds, thinking of a bottle of red and a bottle of white, I was surrounded by “Scenes from an Italian Restaurant.” Billy Joel's tale from The Stranger took me back to younger days, not unlike those of Brenda and Eddie in black leather jackets and tight blue jeans.
The hour came to an end, as I followed the expanding man in Steely Dan's "Deacon Blues." It took seven minutes and forty six ticks of the clock for Donald Fagen to complete the tale of the aspiring saxophonist from the Aja album, but I would have been content had it endured well beyond my allotted hour.
Let's put it this way: I certainly would not have sued him if he played too long.