It’s about that time of year. Mariah Carey is about to get a massive paycheck from all the royalties and my ears are already preparing to bleed. ‘Tis the season for giving… which is something I don’t feel that we need a season for.
Giving should happen perpetually and at any given time. This is the part of the post where I go on a long aside before getting to the point.
Earlier this year was the birthday of a good friend of my father and I’s. He’s a wealthy guy, his house is quite grand for our neighbourhood and he’s living comfortably. He has been helping out a family that’s struggling in town for some time now; there are many children (for modern standards, so about five or six, although I can’t remember the exact number) in the house and one mother/female figure/head of the household. I can’t remember the exact story, but either way, a woman without a crazy and well-paying job can’t support five children who are all at school-going age. So our friend, let’s call him K, helps out by assisting with money and buying clothes, that sort of thing. One young lad from the group, who I’ll call F, decided he wanted to join the gym. The gym is where K met my father and I, so that’s sort of the “ground zero” of our relationship. K pays for F and gives him a ride to and from home. I have spent a lot of time with F and can say that unlike the vast majority of youngsters our age, he has his story in order. It’s sad if you think about it, because F had to have his story in order; maturing and experiencing the real world was necessary and unavoidable in his circumstances. So, for the birthday of K, F gives him an old Bear Grylls knife. It was in a weathered cardboard box and was likely used at some point, but at the end of the day, F decided to give in spite of his circumstances. When driving home, K cried and I can’t blame him as I almost cried myself just hearing the story. If someone who is really struggling can afford to give, what’s my excuse?
That story changed the very fundamentals of my perception of life. I used to be the sort of person who would claw onto material possessions tightly and build up walls so that the only danger to my precious little “kingdom,” the only place I feel safe, was myself. This wasn’t about being materialistic, it was about the crippling fear of loss. I didn’t want anyone to take anything from me. I didn’t want to let go of anything. While I never intended to have that mentality, it just came on its own, it is something that I still pay the price for today. I have rampant trust issues and tend to slowly cut people off when I feel that I have been wronged. I think that watch collecting has played a role in my change of heart. The watch world is full of all sorts of people, which is why I am thankful to have come across the kind and generous ones. My Tissot PR 516 was a gift from a stranger on WatchCrunch, which is a gesture I will never forget until I croak or lose the ability to remember anything.
Being surrounded by humble and more calm people helped get rid of a large portion of my fear of loss.
My fear of loss, naturally translated to a fear of giving, because to give something, you have to “lose” something. Sure, I’m still seventeen, which means I was never expected to buy any gifts in the first place. Like F, I also matured quickly, although not due to financial hardship. I still can’t figure out why I matured so fast, but I did and it’s not like I can turn back time and do everything all over again so that I could have a more “normal” childhood. This year, in the wake of being given so much by my watchmaker, both in terms of tools and wisdom, I have prepared some gifts for those around me.
The only thing that could conquer my fear of loss was guilt. What did I do to deserve opportunities like this? Why do I deserve someone as special as the watchmaker? I will forever be in his debt. He held my hand as I took my metaphorical first steps into watchmaking; I’m riding a bicycle now. I’ve got a long way to go if I want to be a fully-fledged athlete, but every journey starts with one step. My oiler was his; his initials, C.K., are still scratched into it. All of the movements that I practiced on were his. When I think about it, the things he gave me were things laying around the shop, things that weren’t seeing much use. He gave them to me knowing that I would find more use and joy out of them than he would if they were to remain in boxes or on shelves gathering dust.
Deciding on a gift was difficult. I didn’t know if he drank, so I decided against a bottle of good whiskey, which was the initial idea. An added level of difficulty was that I am currently saving up to buy a watch as a graduation gift to myself (even though I am trying to get it before then.) After a lot of browsing, the three main contenders were any sort of drinking vessel from the Stanley brand, a well-made pen and an Opinel knife. I have had experience with all three items myself, so I knew that my money and effort was being put in the right place. A Stanley stackable pint glass won, which I have had engraved with his initials. I figured that it would be something that he can use every day and something that is durable and functional.
His daughter also works in the shop and I’m giving her a set of earrings made from an old watch movement. This is where that fear of loss came to fight me again. I’m destroying a piece of history! I’m abusing a machine! This is heresy! This is Chernobyl times one million! I have learnt to just tell that voice to go f*** itself. It has meddled with my life enough. I haven’t even been alive long enough to decide on a definite career path, so I have no place in my life for that little voice. The movement in question was a movement marked “520.” It was on a Lanco women’s watch, the case of which had been melted down for its gold. I have three of these movements. The watchmaker gave them to me one day for me to practice on. They all have broken balance staffs, if not additional gremlins beyond that. Few people collect women’s cocktail watches. I know that the women in my life are much happier with smart watches, so any effort and money spent to source an original case, crystal and replacement balance staff is not really worth it. I took one of the movements apart and salvaged what I could for jewellery. The balance spring was in such good condition that I removed it; I’ll probably sell it later or something.
For my grandmother and uncle, I have made keyrings out of old Miyota quartz movements. They’re not the sort of thing meant to drop jaws and make heads explode, but it’s something different and rather funky looking. Those movements will now serve their new owners better and bring them more joy than they brought to me just sitting in a plastic bag. Many people may say that this hacking up of watch movements, especially mechanical movements, is disrespectful towards the hobby and the history of the craft. I am already expecting people to tell me that if I didn’t want the movements, I could have just sold them as parts. There are enough parts on eBay. I wasn’t going to list any of those movements for sale anyway, simply because they won’t get sold and I would rather invest the time and effort into selling some other things. They were just going to sit in my drawer, end of story.
I think that this is the best thing that one can do to a watch movement that is not worth fixing or is simply beyond repair. I believe in second chances. Those earrings are the second chance for those Lanco watches. They’ve long been dead and unable to serve their original owners, but now have a chance at life again and can serve a new owner well, even if it is in a slightly different way.
I hope that I’ve added enough positive stuff to make up for the rather gloomy tone in the beginning. Even in the face of many defeats and trials, I can say that this year has taught me a lot. I believe that I’ve improved as a person and I’m on my way to permanently defeating that fear of loss. My goal is to learn how to give and how to help those around me. Like any journey, it starts with that first small step.
In light of that, I would like to extend some thanks to my fellow bloggers here at The Escapement Room: Kaysia, Greg, Christopher, Erik and Celine. You are all an amazing bunch of people and have each inspired me in your own special way. I’m wishing you all a happy holiday. Keep safe out there and be sure to celebrate.
As for you, dear reader, have a happy holiday and reward yourself with a new watch. If your significant other asks questions, feel free to shift the blame onto me; I encouraged you after all. If you take one thing from this post, let it be what I said about giving. We aren’t going to be here forever, so leave some good memories behind. There is no excuse not to be a kind and generous soul, as F illustrated. So go out there and make the world a better place, even if you just take one small step.
Edit: It’s 24 May 2024 and the anonymous man, K, is celebrating his 37th birthday. Thank you for your contribution to not only my life, but the lives of countless other community members. To give in silence and anonymity is the highest form of altruism and something that I aspire to. Thank you, K, God bless.
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