A SWITCH IN TIME
“What time is it?” I asked my wife.
“It’s exactly five o’clock,” she replied as she glanced at the grandfather clock (Grandpa, from now on) in our living room.
“It can’t be, Mary Ellen. It was precisely five o’clock 20 minutes ago. Come to think of it, it’s been 5:00 all day. Isn’t it only supposed to be five o’clock twice a day? I do like it, though, because whenever I look at the clock, it’s time for an aperitif.
That’s when we realized our favorite antique had ceased to function. It wasn’t that we depended on it; we both have digital watches and a microwave that tells the time, but this was a fixture in our home with a long history in Mary Ellen’s family. Just to annoy my wife, I suggested getting rid of Grandpa. Understandably, this made her angry…
“GET RID OF IT? GET RID OF IT? This is a family heirloom, over a hundred years old. It’s timeless.”
“I know it’s timeless. That’s the problem.”
We finally found a repairman to come to our house. There are very few repairwomen who fix grandfather clocks. But there are also very few grandmother clocks. By the way, the big difference between a grandmother clock and a grandfather clock, according to Wikipedia, is that a grandfather clock is taller and has a much longer pendulum.
The repairman was very knowledgeable about the history of the antique, informing us it was over a hundred years old and of German origin. I wondered if I could fix it myself with a little intimidation. I tried my best German accent: “If you don’t start verking, vee can make you tock.”
The repair was successful. We were delighted that Grandpa was back in working order. Not only was he keeping time, but his chiming ability had been restored. Recently, he hadn’t celebrated each hour with a tuneful outburst but simply ticked away. Mary Ellen and I were eager to hear him and also see if his dinging and donging would awaken us at night.
The repairman left at 4:20 pm, so we had to wait until 5:00 to see if the old guy was really operating. It was like waiting for a pot to boil: 4:55, 4:56, 4:57, 4:58, 4:59, 5:00, 5:01, 5:02, 5:03…NOTHING. Mary Ellen wanted to wait a little longer. Grandpa was over 100 years old; he deserved a little time to get up to speed. Ironically, for most of his life, he was fast.
“I’m not sitting here another hour,” I said.
But, of course, I did.
At 7:00 pm, he chimed, but he didn’t at 8:00. At 9:00, he was right on target. Not at 10:00. So, we figured that he only chimed on odd hours, which seemed, well, very odd. The next day, he chimed at 9 pm again but only 8 times. Should we believe the clock or the number of chimes? The following day, he dinged whenever he wanted: 5:00, 5:50, 6:45, and 11:20. At noon, he chimed. We threw our hands up, just like Grandpa does at noon and midnight.
Now, a week later, for reasons we will never understand, Grandpa is functioning perfectly with a melodious sound right on the hour with the proper number of chimes. How long will this good fortune last?
Time will tell.