The Julian Calendar (named after Julius Caesar) is a calculated date based on a continuous count of days since noon Coordinated Universal Time (UTC) on January 1, 4713 BCE (Before the Common Era; an inter-faith replacement for the Jesus-centric 'Before Christ'). Ergo, assuming midnight as my target time, I will reach the hill at 2455092.50000Z (Zulu - the NATO phonetic for Greenich Mean Time (GMT), the original mean solar time as officially reported from the Greenwich Observatory in London, England) or, an easier to calculate Ordinal Date of 261 which is simply a numbering of the Gregorian Calendar (the one we use today, as decreed by Pope Gregory) from 1-to-365 (often confused with the Julian Date), or approximately two-hundred and three days until I reach that confounded hill.
Everything you never wanted to know about time.
I confuse people all the time by denoting an 'L' (Local time) at the end of my timestamps (which I still write in 24-hour) as in 1300L for example, to differentiate it from Zulu time. At any given time, very few people know exactly what I'm trying to convey. Yes, it is sometimes difficult being me.
I'm glad at least the clock face is universal.
There are two occasions which stand out in my mind in which I first discovered that I was getting close to approaching the hill. One, which played out several years ago (and I may have mentioned on here before), and the other having occurred just the other day. I will recount them now in chronological order:
I had just stepped out of the grocery store in Boyd when I noticed an elderly couple sitting in a car with a flat tire. I approached them and asked them to pop the trunk so I could change the tire. I had finished jacking it up and had just bent down with the tire iron to remove the lug nuts when this high school student tapped me on the shoulder and said, "Would you like me to do that for you, sir?"
When I was a porter at Alan Young Buick in North Richland Hills, my job first thing in the morning was shuttling people home and to work after they'd dropped off their cars for repair. The decision was entirely mine who to drop off first, which I usually based upon range of the business or home, and whom was going where. I always reserved the front seat for the oldest of my passengers. Having dropped off the Pacifica for repair the other day, I followed the porter out to the vehicle with a group of people and started to get in behind the driver, who stopped me, and suggested I ride "up front."
Time is a funny thing.