My Dad preferred the metal twist-o-flex watch bands. I can still see him, in my mind, fiddling with the one on his wrist. He’d stick the index finger of his right hand into it and give it a twist. Maybe he’d pull it just a bit and let it snap back onto his wrist. I’m not sure if it qualified as a nervous tick, but he’d do it while he was talking to someone and I don’t think he was even aware he was doing it. He seemed to always wear a watch. Back in his day, it was a necessity. You wanted to be on time, you wore a watch. Being on time was important. You didn’t want to be late for an appointment, an interview, or a date. It was a sign of respect. Seems like nowadays everyone makes excuses for being late to everything. We carry around a phone that connects to the world wide web and can access time zones all over the planet, set an alarm, give directions to anywhere, call an Uber to take us there, but we’re still late. “Overslept” they’ll say, then look at you like “whatcha gonna do?”. As if to say that’s an excuse. Sigh.
I remember my first watch. Mickey Mouse, with the white gloved hands for the minute and hour hands. Red leather watch band. I still have it somewhere in a box. It hasn’t worked in years. I still remember wearing it, although I don’t think I had anything to be late for back during my kindergarten years. It’s a good idea for kids to know the value in keeping up with the time. The concept is getting more elusive the more technologically advanced our society gets. We have knowledge, entertainment, weather, directions and communications on, twenty four-seven, around the clock. It’s always there. Until it’s not. Let your phone die when you most need something from it. See how useful they are then.
There’s something to be said for a device that’s dedicated to one thing. A watch is there to show you what time it is. That’s it. It can make a fashion statement, or not. A grown man can wear a Mickey Mouse watch or a Rolex, but they’ll both tell him what time of the day it is. There’s a beauty in that. My Dad usually wore Timex brand watches. They were modest, even cheap, watches that were good, solid time pieces. When he passed away twenty years ago, my mother gave me a couple of his watches, including the one he’d worn last. It was a 1990’s Timex Indiglo. The kind you can push the stem button and it’ll light up the clock face with that greenish light. The plastic cover is scratched up a bit, and it had a gold twist-o-flex band. I discovered that the hair on my wrist kept getting caught in the band, whether I twisted it, or not, so I changed it out with a watch Laura Gail got me for Christmas years ago. I don’t think my dad had less hair on his wrist than I do, but he was definitely a tougher guy than I am. He must’ve lost all the hair around his wrist from all that twisting and popping. Ouch. I wear the watch every Sunday, to church. It’s my way of using something he left me to remember him. I love that old watch. I’m still a little late to church sometimes. Overslept, ya know?
This week my sister, Pam (Stone) Portefield, turns sixty-three. She’s a breast cancer survivor, and fighter, a mom of Joey, Megan and Kerry, and Nana to Mylie and Peyton. She’s been my oldest big sister for my entire life, and a constant source of inspiration and dark, sarcastic humor for me to draw upon. She’s a former respiratory therapy nurse, retired staffing specialist, and currently showing me how to keep living the good life. She strives to experience all that life has to offer, and still make fun of it (and me) along the way. I aspire to be more like her every day. I know there are days when she’s hurting, and sick. I know that feeling good sometimes has to be a frame of mind, if not a physical reality. She makes it work, even when it hurts. She taught me how to be a connoisseur of books and reading. She even finds time to send me corny Dad joke puns pretty much on a daily basis. She’s a pretty big deal. She’s one of my heroes. My Dad left more than an old Timex behind that can “take a licking and keep on ticking”. Her name is Pam. Happy Birthday, Sis! May your day be full of the people, and things, that you love. You can never really be late, when you live in the “now”. That’s you.
P.S.
I’ll get that book back to you, asap. I read a lot slower than you do. I just need a little more time. (insert smirky grin here)
Rolling Stones 