An Antique 'Round My Wrist

Turning twenty-nine for the fourth time has its pleasures, like inviting a few friends over for a sumptuous meal prepared by yours truly (the bigger the meal, the smaller the guest list, unfortunately). Cooking one's own birthday feast may raise a few eyebrows, but I had a recipe I wanted to try (short ribs alla genovese, boasting a rich anchovy-onion-red wine sauce) and, at this point, cooking gives me as much pleasure as anything, so it certainly wasn't a chore. Besides, the other cook in the house whipped up a slab of roman bread and a decadent Irish Cream Bundt Cake, so it wasn't just me slaving over the hot stove. One friend brought over a whopping bottle of Russian vodka, the other a much-welcomed gift card for a certain beverage chain (one does start to sense a trend here).

But the surprise of the night lay inside the tiny box my wife handed me after we had started toasting each gift with small glasses of Greek ouzo. A wristwatch lay inside, but this was no ordinary wristwatch. This was something we'd both spotted a month or two earlier while scrounging around the antique shops and specialty stores of Escondido. Among the Bulovas, Hamiltons and Omegas lay a unique and odd-looking example of wristwatch whimsy. No name, no details, only a little note alongside indicating it was from the 1920s and a rare design. The 12 digits were squeezed into a narrow rectangular shape, with the 1, 5, 7 and 11 nearly oozing, Salvador Dali/The Persistence of Memory-style, towards the intricate moving hands. It was way out of my price range and areas of knowledge, but it stopped me short in my tracks.

Jane must have been paying attention, because she apparently made a return drive up the 15 to Escondido to claim the watch. It's now sitting next to me, fully wound, ticking away like a charm. It's a thing of beauty. I've been drawn more and more to uniquely crafted items these days, and to have something that boasts both sleek design and utter practicality is a real treat.

They say that male vanity is best expressed through watches and shoes. I have no intention of hoarding large collections of antique watches, and I probably won't be wearing this out to the grocery store or the bike path anytime soon. But it's the sort of thing I'll own until the end of my days. The fact that it was helping somebody keep their appointments before my grandparents were born and when Calvin Coolidge occupied the White House is something I still have difficulty grasping.