There are some things in life which seem, in principle, to make perfect sense. Twist ties. Cruise control. Alliterations. Then there are others which make you wonder if they were accidentally invented while a meth lab was being built. Polaroid sticker cameras. Pokémon. Alarm clocks.
It’s not the concept of alarm clocks that is alien to me; it’s the name. Seriously. WTF. There is nothing alarming about a clock that wakes you up AT THE TIME YOU WANT IT TO. When I think “alarm” I think spontanaity. I think Rescue 911. I think, “Whoa! THIS was certainly unexpected!” Waking up at 6:36 every morning, although possessing its fair share of adventure and excitement, doesn’t strike me as “evacuate-the-building-and-don’t-forget-the-dog” thinking.
In fact, although this hasn’t happened since purchasing the Super Deluxe Alarm Clock Radio o’ Doom with dual alarm system and volume controls and outside-the-box snooze alarm length setting abilities (I suspect it folds out into a Jetsons car or, at the very least, a high-end toaster oven), there have been clocks which have failed to alarm me in any sense, including making me aware that it was going off.
I refer to the fall of 2002, my sophomore year of college, when I spent most of my time thinking of ways to justify skipping Latin. I had an inferior model which would sound only for 15 minutes and then turn off automatically. Even if this were not the case, it was also insufferably easy to turn off, which completely defeats the purpose. In my mind, the perfect alarm clock is a Rubik’s cube or electronic Sodoku/New York Times crossword (they would alternate every day to provide a balance of logical and verbal reasoning) and it would turn off only a) if the puzzle were solved or b) with a key given to a trusted friend or adult or Latin professor. Someone please invent and market this, because it is bound to be more effective than…
THIS model, a Zen chime clock timed according to the Golden Mean (also known as the “What-the-Hell-Does-That” Mean) that promises — nay, guarantees — to make waking up a “beautiful experience.” NEWS FLASH: When one gets up at 6:36 a.m. and knows that an hour later she will be stuck in traffic, waking up categorically blows. I’m sure D.T. Suzuki wouldn’t agree, but he probably gets to wake up and meditate in an environment free from Toyota Camrys that fail to signal.
And then there is THIS one, affectionately the SS-4000, which was probably designed by the U.S. government after something recovered at Roswell. I imagine this is effective because after sleeping in a room lit up like Rockefeller Center in December, one would already be awake when the “typical beeping type alarm sound” sounded. And who knew the mothership made calming digital sounds of nature such as Summer Night (what, drunken fraternity brothers rolling a keg down the stairs and urinating out windows?), Rain (rain) and Waterfall (rain, only louder)?
The point at which I wish to arrive is: Alarm clocks may be alarmingly unattractive and they may make alarming outrageous claims. But being alarming to their very core? I think not. I encourage you to ponder this matter.
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