I am not an horologist by any means, but I
really like clocks and watches. To me, clocks are mesmerizing with their
constant ticking and spinning. I love the face of a clock with the numbers, or
implied numbers, traditional or Roman, looking at you, reminding you that time
is slipping away. Perhaps they are just a softer version of the Grim Reaper
symbols on old tombstones, but I like that softer reminder that you need to
slow down and enjoy what you have because it won’t last.
The way clocks have changed our language and
thinking is also very interesting to me as a student and teacher of language.
In the old days time wasn’t spoken of as precisely as it is now. You could tell
the hour on a sun dial or by looking at the placement of the sun or stars in
the sky but the precise minute or second wasn’t known or even thought about. By
the Middle Ages clocks were being put into cathedrals in Europe and if you
asked what time it was the response would be, “It is the eighth hour of the clock,”
which gradually became shortened to how we speak now saying it is “eight o’clock.”
Of course, no one had a clock in their home or a watch on their wrist, they
just had to go to the cathedral close or into the cathedral itself to where they
would see a clock. Sometimes the face of the clock had all 24 hours and
sometimes twelve, so that is also when we began to speak in terms of am and pm.
Many of the clocks (most are still there) would have little scenes played out.
I know of one in England where two knights are jousting and the defeated one
gets knocked off his horse (or maybe he gets his head knocked off?). I admire
the stamina because he has kept getting back up for over eight hundred years
now.
Of course, I have my own collection of watches
to contribute to my fascination. I do not have a terribly large collection of
clocks because I’m the only one in my household who enjoys the constant ticking
from a collection of clocks. But I do have a few clocks as well. When I was
younger in my early teens I wanted a watch but I couldn’t bear to have
something on my wrist (that has since changed) so my parents bought me a pocket
watch which I still use. When I got my first job as a teacher I bought myself a
Casio wrist watch that is digital so that I could have a stop watch for timing
my runs and my track athletes. When I got married my grandmother gave me my
great grandfather’s pocket watch that I remember him using when I was a child
setting on his lap. He would speak Nez Perce to me, though I had no idea what
he was saying. Later in life my wife bought me a nice watch for our anniversary
and another Casio that is a combination digital and analog for a birthday. I
got a watch from the teacher’s union for being the lead negotiator for our
first contract. I also have a Mickey Mouse watch from Disney World. I did have
a wrist watch for every day of the week, but I gave one away to the new union
president upon my retirement—an Idaho Education Association watch that had more
meaning as the local president and didn’t seem something to wear anymore. All
of my watches have special significance to me, but just the idea of a watch or
a clock in general has special meaning to me.
I guess clocks just feel like the comfort of
life, the comfort of time in history and the simple passing of each moment that
we need to be aware of. I know sometimes they just remind us we are late, but
they also remind us that we are. I love clocks.
