Straddling The International Date Line

Last night, I put my book away too late and as a result, I couldn't sleep.  Not being able to sleep is new to me, and I don't like it.

Mr de Elba came to bed, hit the pillow and started snoring.  Snoring even louder than I snore.  That is, when I can get to sleep.

As I lay staring at the ceiling listening to him snore, I got to thinking.  (Snoring doesn't keep me awake, by the way, insomnia keeps me awake.  Snoring is just the Soundtrack of Insomnia.)

I thought, as I am sure you can understand, about The International Date Line.  Doesn't it just blow your mind?  An imaginary line in the middle of the Pacific, anxiously skirting the islands because if it (gasp) travelled near or on land, CAN. YOU. IMAGINE. THE. CHAOS?

You think that having Daylight Saving Time in New South Wales and no Daylight Saving in Queensland is confusing?  Imagine if the International Date Line divided an island!  One half getting a head start on tomorrow while the other half was still catching up on yesterday, while today's sun shines down on both of them.  Or something.

I can imagine that if one was straddling the International Date Line and facing north, then one's right hand would most certainly not know what one's left hand ... was going to do.  Or had done, if one was facing south.

Actually, no.  If one was facing south, one's right hand could know what one's left hand had done, but it may have forgotten given that it happened an extra 24 hours ago.

Well, all of this fascinated me and I had nothing better to do, so I imagined a conversation between two people, one on each side of the International Date Line.  I expected it would be an interesting exchange, but it wasn't.

This is how it played out in my mind.  Because the Line neurotically keeps to the deep ocean, I pictured my two people bobbing up and down in little rowing boats, pulled up on either side of the International Date Line which was demarcated by giant red pontoons arranged in a dot-dash formation, akin to the Date Line on maps.

Andy:  Hey mate!  How's it going?  How are the wife and kids?

Mike: Oh mate, sorry I didn't get back to you.  I forgot you asked me that this morning.  They're doing fine thanks.  How are you and yours?  ...Andy?  Andy? ...Mate?

Andy: You asked me that tomorrow.  I haven't heard it yet.

- The End -

I didn't promise it was Cecil B. DeMille.

Now my brain hurts. 

This never happened to Copernicus or Galileo.