I know. I know. You don't have to tell me, even once. Times flies these days. Time used to drag, on and on and on, but not now. It races away with me. In those teen years, I asked myself when was the future ever going to get here? You see, I had an old, tan Westclox alarm clock on the table beside my bed to get me up for school, and the mill whistle blowing at 2:15 PM told me it was time to do afternoon papers. That was all I needed. I was a simple kid. These days, if I head off to work without one of my many watches on my wrist, I'm a bit 'off kilter' all day. It's an uneasy feeling. It's like spending the day continually checking my fly, because I think it's unzipped. It's unpleasant! Earlier this week on my trip, I wore a silver number that had a dead battery. When anyone asked me what time it was, I replied, "11:45". They laughed! They finally stopped asking for the time. Mid-week, I got the battery replaced on a mall visit and a gentle calmness fell over me. Back in my college days, I used to laugh at my friend Tommy. He was an art major who wore a fancy gold wristwatch, that he had deliberately broken off the hands on. However, he would wind it religiously each day. He said he liked to hear it tick. Maybe he was on to something... no hands, no time?
Look Ma, no hands!