Oh, Daylight Savings Time.
You make no sense, and you seriously challenge my devotion to clock collecting twice a year.
I was young and living in Arizona when I began my clock compilation. Arizona is unique, because it’s currently only one of two U.S. states that do not observe Daylight Savings. It never occurred to me, being so young and all, that I might someday want to move myself and my clocks out of Arizona.
Such is the shortsightedness of a 10-year-old timepiece enthusiast.
I also failed to take into account the cost of batteries for said timekeepers. Not all of them are battery-powered, but a great many of them are. Some take AA, some take AAA, some take C … It takes a lot of mental energy to stay on top of the battery situation. Not to mention the time it takes to replace the batteries as well.
And speaking of time, it also takes a great deal of that and effort to keep all my tickers running at about the same time. There is some level of variance between all the pieces I’ve accumulated, which is frustrating to someone like me who dabbles in obsessive-compulsive tendencies.
It also has not escaped my attention (nor the attention of my friends and family) the irony of my particular situation … I am one of the most punctually challenged people I know. And I collect clocks. Enigma, anyone?
I’m slowly coming to understand why I don’t know more people with a collection of clocks. Maybe 10-year-old me should’ve stuck with rocks or seashells.
I guess the real attraction for me has always been the ticking. The constant reminder that time is passing; that life is passing. It’s soothing in a very self-tormenting kind of way.
“Clocks slay time … time is dead as long as it is being clicked off by little wheels; only when the clock stops does time come to life.”
-William Faulkner, The Sound and the Fury