Keeps on Tickin'

I had a feeling that if I put this old Timex on my wrist, this automatic made in 1979 (it has a serial number), which I bought for $2 at yard sale in sale in 2004 and which hadn't been running for a while, it would run again. At the same time, another voice in my head said that the hope was delusional, that the watch was an old, nun-running, non-salvageable piece of junk.

That was a few hours ago, and now it's running again. Just as before, setting the time was very difficult, and I didn't even want to attempt to set the date.

And just as before, before today I had given up and concluded that this watch didn't run anymore, only to change my mind after wearing it for a few hours and seeing that, yes, it does run. How many times have I gone through this whole cycle now, giving up, regarding the watch as not running, and then having it pleasantly surprise me (except for setting the date)? At least twice. Maybe more than that.

I don't remember, from the previous times, whether the date still turns over at all, or if it did when I first owned it and then stopped at some point.

I've never had this watch serviced. I've never done any watch repair myself. The idea of servicing any Timex seems absurd to me. 

The whole subject of Timex tends to anger me. Timex was the main cheap watch brand of which I was aware when I was a kid (born 1961), and since learning about other brands in the past few years, I've felt I was cheated in my childhood, because their were other brands which were much better and no more expensive. Notably Seiko. 

But here this Timex is, running again.

But one watch's performance, one out of millions, is an anecdote, not an indication of a brand's quality.

I'm confused and full of conflicting feelings. That may already have been obvious to empathetic readers.

I wrote before on this blog that the little kid running the yard sale gave me a look when I bought this watch, a look which I interpreted as, "What a schmuck, spending $2 on this piece of junk!"

Lately I've wondered whether that look meant something completely different. Maybe the kid wanted her Dad's old watch, and he told her, "Okay, if nobody buys it at the yard sale, you can have it." Maybe the look I interpreted as incredulity at my throwing my money away, actually expressed bitter disappointment. 

Maybe someday I'll become so famous as a writer that the kid will contact me and finally get her Dad's watch back. Of course, she's not a kid anymore. Maybe she doesn't care about watches any more. Maybe she never did. I've only speculated about what her attitude was back in 2004, without ever having known her.

Now that I've written this post, maybe a bunch of schmucks will pretend to be her and try to get a watch fraudulently.  

I could probably sell it. For a lot more than $2. I don't really want to.