Sunday morning I attended a meeting in the Bishop’s office, an office which has been going through some repairs and painting of late. The large clock which normally hangs on the wall has been temporarily moved out of the room making it more difficult to begin and end our meetings in a timely fashion and so, knowing this before hand, I brought my pocket watch since it is able to “stand”, as it were, by itself in plain view to everyone.
The hour long meeting began with one of the brethren offering a prayer as we knelt around the Bishop’s desk. My ear was relatively close to the pocket watch, perched atop my scriptures, there to remind us of the passing minutes. My hearing aids may not pick up the spoken word as clearly as I’d like; however, they do a great job with mechanical noises. I jokingly exaggerate that I can hear the firing order of a car travelling down the freeway when I have my ears turned on, just don’t expect me to hear what you just said.
Yesterday, while the prayer was being offered I heard the distinctive, “Tick, tick, tick, tick…” of my pocket watch drowning out the words of the prayer. It was like the first few minutes of the television show, Sixty Minutes.
The photograph in this link was one I took and submitted to the Photolaureates contest a year or so back, and which I was told, made it all the way to the semi-finals. The watch, made in 1921, has a Hunter’s Case; one which opens to show both the face and, on the back, permits a view of the inner workings.
The folks at Photolaureates kept sending me emails regarding the great picture I took; every month a flattering word regarding that most excellent of pictures that should be enshrined along side the works of Ansel and other greats, that photo which should be enlarged and transferred onto canvass with a black walnut professional frame for the cost of only $299.95 plus shipping and handling, that photograph which would also be included in a fine leather trimmed book with other winning photographs at a reduced cost of only $89.95 plus shipping and handling; that photograph could be shared with the world as a beginning of my photo journalist career. I may have been born; but it wasn’t yesterday. Thank you very much; but I wear brown shoes every other day as a reminder not to take myself too seriously.
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