I'm not entirely sure what led to my desire to have an over-sized black-faced watch with a rubber wrist band. Perhaps it was that this high school neighbor kid (that in hindsight I kind of crushed on) had one. Or that it just looked cool. All I really know for sure is that I had a little kid's Timex and I wanted something more, I don't know, adult.
My parents didn't disappoint. On August 11th, 1970, they gave me this Caravelle diver's watch, just like I had wished for. I was ecstatic. It was so cool, and it was exactly what I pictured when I asked for one. It's a wind-up, and I only bring it out on my birthday. And goddamn if the thing doesn't still keep perfect time after all these years.
It's scratched, the band is pretty worn, and overall it looks kind of tired. No matter. This watch, $39 at the time, has held up. I wore it every day all the way through college. It shows up in family and yearbook photos. It's probably the most treasured thing I have from my childhood. The local jeweler here tells me that the Caravelle brand is still made by Bulova, and that he can restore it if I want him to. I don't. I like it just the way it is.
Of course, there is a dark side to this story. This watch became the first of well over a few hundred watches I have owned since that time. I have a kind of watch obsession. A compulsion. An addiction. Whatever you want to call it, I have a shitload of watches. I usually wear a different one each day. Some, over time, have been pitched or packed away. But the current rotation has maybe 50 that all work and are all pretty cool in there own way. Tom thinks I'm nuts, but I just like watches. Cheap ones. Gaudy ones. Precise ones. Just about everything except for over the top expensive ones. No need. There are so many reasonably priced cool watches that the gold Tiffany watch I received as an award at work 20 years ago never comes out of it's box.
So, yeah. Today's my birthday. If you are still trying to decide what to buy me, you can't go wrong with a watch.
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