Put the Watch Down and Back Away from the Table...

I've moved from apartment to apartment, never saving much of anything. The microwave my mother gave me. Some photos. Some collectibles. But I don't think I've ever saved anything for a long time. But this watch I own: I've had it now for 25 years.

I bought it in 1982 with my first overtime money. I planned a tour of Switzerland and Italy, and while I was in Switzerland, I went to Bucherer's and got the royal treatment. I became a member of the Rolex club. There were about four "members" in Customs, and Frank and I used to make jokes about it. We wore our watches every day. Others would laugh at us, joke that the Rolex doesn't keep good time. It's not a timepiece, after all. It's a piece of jewelry.

It's an Oyster Perpetual Lady Datejust. I still remember looking at it for the first time, as its undying crystal gleamed in the light. It's a two-tone band, meaning half stainless steel, half gold. I don't even know if you can buy those any more.

Today I took my Rolex in to the shop in San Francisco. It's up 7 floors behind an unlabeled door on Post Street. The doorman there told me where to find it. It had been, after all, about 7 years since I had been there. I braced myself. Here it comes.

The lady greeted me at the counter, saw the watch, and called for the Watch Repairman. He spoke to me in clipped tones, an elegant trace of a Swiss accent apparent. And then he started to scold me.

It happens every time. I've been here three times since I bought my Rolex. I may not remember exactly where the place is. I may not remember which floor it's on. But I remember the scolding.

I explained to him that the stem was broken, the same thing that was wrong when I brought it in five years ago. I couldn't change the date, and changing the time was difficult. He took it away for several minutes and then returned. He looked at me solemnly, lowered his head, and began. "It's not the stem. It's the mechanism that the stem drives. It's been longer than five years."

I lowered my head in shame. I hadn't been a very good parent.

He continued. "You need to bring the watch in every three or four years for maintenance."

Yeah, yeah. Seven years ago -- or whenever I had brought it in last -- it was $300 for the cleaning. And their cleaning means that they fix anything that's broken inside, except for replacing the crystal. Today it was more than $500. Who could afford to bring it in every three years?

I guess the answer to that question is the obvious: if you have to ask about the price, you can't afford the watch. I love that old watch.

He asked me if I wanted to replace the crystal. It has a few nicks in its once-indestructible surface. No, not yet, I replied. "Next time," he smiled.

Sometime after 2010.