Give me a simple, time-telling wristwatch and keep the one that’s smarter than me
At least once a year. I toss about a dozen watches into a Ziploc bag and go to Blanquart’s Jewelers in downtown Belleville for new batteries.
It’s a moment of reckoning. Why does one guy have so many watches? It confirms that I’m a wristwatch nerd.
There is hope. I don’t wear a watch to sleep, golf, shower, ride my bike or work out. Occasionally, I will leave home without one. Yes, I turn around and get it.
My first watch was a kids’ Mickey Mantle All-Star watch. It was a gift when I learned to tell time. I thought I was cool. In hindsight, the other kids were making fun of me at recess when they repeatedly asked me what time it was and how much free time remained?
I was Wristwatch Boy, Playground Timekeeper.
That childhood watch quit working a lifetime ago, but I’ve held onto it. Sweet memories. Old scars. Either way, you hold onto them forever.
I never wore a watch in high school because I didn’t pay attention to details like time.
I started wearing a watch again after I graduated from college. My dad gave me a Timex as a gift. “Here, you might need this now,” he said. I think it was his manhood statement, a little hint that it was time to grow up and become more responsible.
Dad was a watch guy, too.
Silver watches, always.
Lots of them.
There is nothing fancy about my watches. They are boring, simple, traditional, reliable, silent and with limited capabilities. I have a theory about gadgets. The fewer bells, whistles and alarms, the fewer chances that it will break and need repaired. So simple is best, always.
I may be the odd man out again, but I won’t wear a watch that’s smarter than me.
I owned a smart watch once. I hated that watch. Why? It was like wearing my phone on my wrist. And my phone was usually in my hand, a few inches away.
I wore a smart watch for about two months. Tried to like it. Acted like I didn’t mind when my phone rang on my wrist. Or when my watch vibrated with each text. I ignored it when the watch told me to stand up, or how many steps I had taken.
I took that smart watch off and never recharged it.
Gave it away, eventually.
Went back to my simple, reliable, traditional watches.
I want a watch that keeps time only.
I don’t need the day or date either. It’s so small that I can’t read it anyway. No one over age 50 can read the day-date on their watch.
I don’t want my watch to be my companion and friend.
I don’t need to wear a watch that measures, monitors, beeps, talks, rings, buzzes or reminds me that it’s medicine time or that I have not gotten enough steps today.
I don’t want to wear a watch that serves as another tracking device. Or a watch that can take photos or videos. Or can tell me how well I slept the previous night or tracks my heartbeats or my breaths while I sleep.
A smart watch is the over-thought of watches. You think you need all this other stuff? Really, all you need to know is the time.
A few weeks ago, I packed up a Ziploc bag and went back to Blanquart’s with about a dozen watches that needed batteries. Why does one guy need so many? I still don’t understand. Here’s one theory. I like watches because they connect my past with my present. Wristwatch Boy, Playground Timekeeper. My dad gave me one for college graduation.
Overthinking again. I think, for me, watches are a lot like sweaters, Brooks tennis shoes, down vests, black sweat socks, vintage T-shirts, and loose hoodies.
It’s simple, really.
I wear watches because they feel right and I like them.