A few of you have called or e-mailed or written this week to ask why I didn't whine like I usually do when we change our clocks.

Here's why: You don't live in Indiana, Hawaii or Arizona, the only states left where red-blooded, true-blue Americans still believe they have a constitutional right to set their clocks once -- when they are purchased -- and never fiddle with them again.

It doesn't matter a hoot if I holler twice a year about changing clocks this way and that way. You aren't going to change, are you?

I didn't think so.

As you know, I think we ought to have daylight-saving time year-round. I don't mind dark mornings, but I despise darkness at 4 p.m. during the winter.

God never intended for it to be dark at 4 p.m.

"God divided the light from the darkness. And God called the light daylight-saving time, and the darkness he called Public Law 89-387."

It's all right there in the Good Book.

God knew what he was doing. I don't think it's healthy to mess around with the Big Plan.

Every night when I go to bed, I say this little prayer:

Now I lay down my head

And hope by morn I'm not dead.

But if I die, for goodness sake

Let me in heaven awake

Where all my bonds have been set free

And all the clocks are set to DST.

Do I hear an amen?

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Bless his heart, Hizzoner Al did a mighty fine thing last Friday, which was his last day as mayor.

He showed up here at the newspaper with a sly smile on his face and a piece of paper in his hand.

You will recall that in last week's column I pointed out that the mayor only had hours left to declare the World Famous Downtown Golf Course the city's official honorary golf course.

I don't know what I said in that column that moved the Mighty Al to such a generous and magnanimous gesture, but he did it.

Yessiree. He signed a proclamation. It has a gold seal and everything.

I thought you might appreciate reading some of it:

Whereas, presidents and governors have pardon powers and usually, on their last day in office, use those powers to set free various criminals as paybacks to their political cronies; and

Whereas, the mayor of Cape Girardeau unfortunately has no such power; and

Whereas, for eight long years R. Joe Sullivan ... has longed for a world famous downtown golf course; and

Whereas, with the demolition of the old Mississippi River bridge in a few years, the city has an opportunity to provide a world-class driving range atop the western pier (subject to DNR, EPA, PETA and other such organizations' environmental impact studies); and

Whereas, a world famous downtown golf course and mile-long drive across the river range would establish Cape Girardeau as a one and only such attraction, reaping huge tourist revenue for the city treasury as well as a place for Rex and Jon Rust to play golf without injuring someone or embarrassing the rest of the "decent" golfers; and

Whereas, Joe did in fact embrace Hizzoner with such kind adjectives in his column on April 5, 2002,

Now, therefore, be it resolved that I, Albert M. Spradling III, as mayor of the city of Cape Girardeau and as my last official act, hereby proclaimR. Joe Sullivan's

World Famous

Downtown Golf Course

as the official honorary golf course in the city of Cape Girardeau and ask all citizens to please replace their divots and fix their pitch marks as they traverse the town.

In witness whereof I have hereunto set my hand and caused to be affixed the seal of the city of Cape Girardeau, Missouri, this 5th day of April A.D., 2002.

Albert M. Spradling III, Mayor.

R. Joe Sullivan is the editor of the Southeast Missourian.