Pocket Watch

Pocket Watch

There was a time when I really wanted to own a pocket watch. I’d worn a wristwatch most of my adult life. I’d considered using a pendant watch or a watch that pinned to my clothing, and rejected them. Somehow I’d been enraptured by the image of a powerful, wealthy, handsome man who wore a pocket watch on the end of a gold chain, who fished it out of his pocket and clicked the button on top to flip the case open.

I eventually bought myself a pocket watch. The case is embossed with the Statue of Liberty and sailing ships in the harbor on one side, and an eagle flying in front of a mountain on the other side. I also bought a snazzy chain to connect the watch to a clip that hooks through a button hole or over my waistband.

I wore the pocket watch for a while, especially on state occasions. I felt pretty cool clicking open the case to read the time. But that gratification was outweighed by the hassle of fishing the watch out of my pocket, getting it right side up, and clicking it open to tell the time, as compared to the ease of simply turning my arm to see my wristwatch.

Nowadays, I find it even easier to press the button on the ipod touch that lives in my shirt pocket to check the time, in part because the large digital read-out is easier to read than the analog face of my smallish wristwatch.

So, since ease of use is such a strong value to me, why did I want to use a pocket watch? Somehow it acquired for me an air of sophistication, wealth, and, of course, male privilege. If I couldn’t have that privilege, at least I could have the proper accessory.