Sunday, November 1, 2020

A Tale of Clocks and Daylight Savings Time

Yesterday started for me with a visit with my mom. I visit her almost every Saturday morning. Aside from the normal chores (cutting the grass, cleaning the gutters, re-programming the TV remote, moving heavy objects from room to room, etc.), she will routinely throw me a curve ball. Since this weekend happened to be Daylight Savings Time, I was also tasked with setting back all of her clocks. 

It would normally be a simple chore. But, you see, there are at least 25 clocks in my mother's house. Some people collect coins, some people collect baseball cards. My Dad, for some unknown reason, collected clocks. No one really ever asked why. But my Dad would pick up these unique clocks during his travels around local flea markets and yard sales. If you live around the Baltimore area, there's a good chance that one of your old clocks is now hanging in my Mom's house. And my Dad didn't store his collection for a rainy day. Oh, no. He actually displayed these things all over the house for everyone's enjoyment (and bewilderment).

One of the more peculiar things with all of these clocks is that some of them have chimes. With the strike of each hour, you will be greeted with a melodic belch of punctual commotion. It's kind of like walking into a barn and hearing the cows, goats and roosters greeting you in off-key unison. The first time you hear it, you'll likely react like Joe Pesci in "My Cousin Vinny" when he is awakened by the screeching owl (I know I use the Joe Pesci reference a lot. But it fits so many different scenarios. Plus, its a great movie!).

Speaking of owls, this one clock has 12 different birds on it, one for each hour. So, if the clock strikes one, you might hear a robin If it strikes two, you might hear a cardinal. I never really researched it to see if these various bird chirps were accurate. But my Dad swore that they were, so I'll take his word for it. I remember one time when the clock struck six. My Dad got a surprised look on his face and said, "You hear that?" 

"Hear what?", I asked.

As the bird-du-heure chimed for the sixth and final time, my Dad said, "Right there. You didn't hear that?"

I informed him that it was just a chickadee in his elaborate timepiece reminding us that it's 6 o'clock. He got a big smile on his said, "Son of a bitch! That thing sounds like a real bird. I'd better go outside and check on those burgers." (Many people knew my Dad as the lawnmower guru of Brooklyn. But few knew of his clock obsession.)

A few years ago, my son gave my Mom this fancy clock for Christmas. When I saw her opening it, I pulled Ken Jr. to the side and said, "A clock? Really?" 

Now, this particular clock has three different song themes. You have the choice of Christmas songs, contemporary classics or Frank Sinatra tunes. My Mom usually opts for the latter of the three. You see, many years ago at my sister's wedding reception, I had a little too much of the bubbly and did a rendition of "New York, New York". Although I was probably viewed by most people as the drunk uncle of the party, my Mom was surprisingly impressed with my butchered version of the Sinatra classic. Hearing her clock chime out "New York, New York" takes her back to that special day. Hey, if making an ass out of myself puts a smile on my mother's face, I'm good with it.

So, I made my way around my Mom's house yesterday pulling each clock from the wall and setting back the time exactly one hour. I actually got a cramp in my arm from lifting it so many times. To complicate things even further, some of the clocks had these pendulums that you have to jump start. I basically had to flick the pendulum with my finger until it moved back and forth freely. I'm happy to report that the natural hue has finally returned to my middle right fingernail.

About the time when I was finishing with the last of the 25 clocks, my mom called me from her bedroom...

 "Ken, I need you to dust off each one of those clocks when you take them down.", she said.

I had neither the mental or physical energy to pull all of those clocks off of the wall again. So. I simply replied,  "Ok, Mom. I'll get right on it." 

And then I grabbed a cold bottle of water and proceeded to plop my exhausted ass into a recliner. What she doesn't know won't hurt her. Plus, in no time at all, it will be spring and I'll be setting all of the clocks forward again. I'll plan on getting the dust rag out then...

kw



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