|Time's a ...|
|Written by Michael Fones|
|Tuesday, 14 July 2009 11:08|
Sherry's on retreat, and I'm just now taking a break from watching "Extreme Logging" on the Discovery Channel. Before I go outside to work on my tan, I thought I'd post a quick musing.
Yesterday my wristwatch strap broke. It was inevitable. It's an inexpensive watch with a cheap (faux?) leather wristband that screamed planned obsolescence when I purchased it 18 months ago. It wasn't waterproof, so I took it off to shower. I took it off when I went to the gym. It didn't stand a chance.
So yesterday, I was tempted to go and replace it. I had had a watch with a sturdy velcro wristband that I liked, but that old Timex took a licking and didn't keep on ticking.
I got as far as getting in the car yesterday, thinking I'd stop at a sporting goods store to pick up a watch on my way to work, when I noticed the clock in the car. Then I thought, "where else are there clocks in my life?" Immediately I thought of my cell phone, and then the digital clocks on the microwave, the stove, and the DVD player in the living room of the house I stay in when I'm in Colorado Springs. There are several clocks in the gym, and another couple of clocks in the CSI office. There's a clock in the vestry in the parish church, as well as one in the sacristy. Even my trusty Mac has a clock in the right hand corner of the screen, and will even tell me with a soft chime that the hour has changed.
By this time, I decided I can live without a watch, and on my way to work I passed the bank - and the bank's sign that informed me of the time (and that my musing had made me late for work) and the temperature (a delightful, sun-drenched 78 degrees).
This morning I asked one of the parishioners what time it was as he entered the chapel, so I'd be sure to start on time. If my ancestors could get by without constant reminders of the time (and the constant evaluation of being late or not), surely I can. Especially when I am participating in a time-transcending event like the eucharist. Without a watch, I'm less tempted to check the time when I'm praying, and I'm going to try to pay more attention to the placement of the sun in the sky and the length of the shadows on the ground.
Which reminds me. It's time to tan some more.
Just don't tell Sherry.