Clock

I purchased an old clock. I don’t know how old it is. It requires manual winding. It makes pleasant sounds. It is not very accurate. I am gradually learning to calibrate it. It is a Special Clock. It makes me happy. I thought the ticking would bother me more, but it has become a background sound of which I am not usually conscious.

When I went to the clock shop owned by the family of a running buddy last year, I noticed that there were several old clocks on the wall. They were all good, but one was particularly pleasant to view, due to its shape and the font of the Arabic numerals on its face, which I would characterize as having a roaring twenties (which these are, very arguably, now that I think about it) look. I excitedly asked the friend its price, and he delivered the bad news that those clocks were not for sale. The reasoning was that they did not work, but I think the shop needs the decoration and does not want to part with them. Fair enough. Although I like the friend just a tiny bit less now.

Happily, my friend advised me to go the other clock shop in our city. It has the same name as his shop. Years before this advice, I had run past the other shop and marveled silently that not only were there two clock shops in the city at all, but that they were identically named.

This other shop and my friend’s shop have no business affiliation. The other is run by my friend’s great uncle. It is located on the other side of Hachioji Station. The identically named shops are on friendly-if-distant terms. While my friend’s shop is focused on watches and hearing aids and some other things, the uncle’s has many more standing and wall clocks, especially old ones, in addition to a lot of used watches.

After trying the fried rice (or anything else) for the first time at a Chinese place that is near the great uncle’s shop, I decided to go inside and see what there was. I talked to the great uncle about my desire for an old-school clock. He wanted me to wait until a later date when he could show me a bunch of clocks in addition to the ones in his shop, that are in storage. Instead, I decided quickly on the one shown above. I had never heard of Aichi Tokei. According to the great uncle, they are the only other maker of such clocks with a long history in Japan, along with the much-better-known Seiko.

I love its numbers. I love the branding. I love the key, and winding the clock with the key. I love the glass and the wooden door and casing. It is a very pleasant thing to have in my office. During the online seminars that I taught in early April, it occurred to me that the clock was going to strike each hour, so I removed the pendulum and stored the clock for a few days. I might let it ride next time.

During our interaction, the great uncle allowed that he is old (I forget exactly what he said, but I think around 80) and not likely to keep his shop much longer. There is no successor, as you might imagine. An irrational part of me wants to acquire more clocks from him, although I do not want any more clocks in my office than the one. Like a lot of people, I am lately attracted to single-purpose, analog, unconnected items. The age in which we live is certainly a big cause of this. And, I bet, the probable middle-age decline in my testosterone level, to which my recent love of smooth jazz is attributable.

Doing and having things that bring simple pleasure. That’s the common theme of so many aspects of life right now.