On my watch

A long time ago, on wrists far, far away, people wore watches that weren’t smart. Rather they were functional. Fun. Stylish. Elegant.

Instead of the black, battery-charged squares you see on so many wrists, that do everything from answer phone calls to measure your heart rate to tell you how many steps you take in a day, they made up for their lack of Swiss Army utility by doing one thing well: telling time.

They were, and still are, um, timeless.

I was rummaging through my drawers over the weekend— the ones in my dresser, get your mind out of the gutter—and hidden away in there were a few timepieces I’d completely forgotten about.

Like this beauty pictured above. This ACME watch was given to me by the wife when we were in New York back in the day. We were enjoying a fine afternoon of shopping at the now late, great Warner Bros. flagship store on the corner of 5th and 57th, fraternizing with characters like Bugs Bunny, Daffy Duck, Superman, Wile E. Coyote, the Tasmanian Devil, Tweety Bird and Sylvester.

The only silhouette missing on the face of it is the falling anvil.

Another gem, and also a gift from the wife who may have been trying to tell me something by giving me so many watches, was this retro-chic Hamilton Electric timepiece. I can’t remember if it’s from the late 50’s or early 60’s, but it doesn’t really matter.

Bitchin’ then, bitchin’ now.

Then there’s the Xemex—see if you can guess who gave it to me. It belonged to our friend Francois, and I had admired it so much that the wife (dammit, now you know) made a secret deal to buy it from him for me. The watch weighs just under seventy-five pounds. Alright, maybe not. But it feels like it. It’s a huge, heavy, shiny object.

I’ve had apartments smaller than that watch.

Years ago, an art director I worked with named Neil Muller wore this Seiko Chronograph. At the time I didn’t wear a watch (does anyone really know what time it is? Does anyone really care?), but I couldn’t stop thinking about how beautiful it was. So I ran out and bought the exact same watch for myself.

I still don’t know what most of the dials do, but they look impressive, yes?

Finally, have to go with a classic. This Mickey Mouse watch was purchased on one of my many trips to the happiest place on earth. My Apple Watch lets me have a digital Mickey face on it, but it ain’t the same.

I was going to tie this up with a line about being out of time, coming back for seconds or even tick-tock Clarisse.

But it’s been a rough day. I think I’ll just kick back and unwind.

Post haste

Because I yam who I yam (Popeye joke and Thanksgiving joke in the same line - BAM!), I spent more than a little time playing around with—I mean thoughtfully crafting—different catchy names for this post: Stamp Of Approval. Pushing The Envelope. Going Postal. The Postman Cometh. Special Delivery. But then I decided that, like so many things, I should just trust my Jedi instincts and probably go with the first one I thought of. You're welcome.

We're all aware that one of the ways Cadet Bone Spurs tried to rig the election in his orange-faced favor—along with his billionaire friend and hired thug Postmaster General Louis DeJoy (who will soon be DeGone)—was to cripple the capacity of the postal service to deliver mail-in ballots on time by removing mailboxes and letter-sorting machines.

Like everything else he comes up with in that puny brain and touches with those tiny hands, it failed miserably.

But damage has been done. Morale is lower than ever. Postal employees, already overworked and risking their lives during a pandemic, are working even harder and later. The USPS is now over 9 billion dollars in debt and rising fast. Besides thanking our mailman/woman everyday, there isn't much I can do about the first two. But I am doing something about the third.

I went online last week and decided to buy a bazillion sheets of Forever stamps. There's a much bigger selection on the site than at the post office, so I stocked up: plenty of jolly old St. Nick stamps for the mountain of Christmas cards we'll hopefully be sending out. Some smaller denominations to make up the difference between former postage rates and current ones. And a whole lot just for the fun of it.

All to the tune of about $400.

If you know anything about me, and if you don't by now I don't know what else I can do except bring you to my therapy sessions with me, you know I'm a dog person.

Especially if the dog is a German Shepherd.

So it comes as no surprise to anyone that when I saw the sheet of dog stamps that included my favorite breed, I had to fetch them (sorry). What I meant to say was pony up for them. Does that make these stamps a dog and pony show? Discuss.

Of course, I alway like to go for the funny. So any chance I get I try to add a little humor to my envelopes and bring some well-needed joy (what can I say, I'm a giver) whenever possible. I don't waste them paying bills or answering mail surveys or any mailing I'm sure will be opened by machine. But on those occasions when I know my correspondence will be opened and read by a friend or at least delivered by a human, the Sesame Street stamps above and these wascally wabbit Bugs Bunny stamps fit the bill.

The Count is my favorite character on the Street, but sadly there isn't even vone! sheet of stamps dedicated solely to him. So I got the ones with all the characters. I figured what the hell, at least I don't have to hear Elmo laugh.

And since I grew up on Warner Bros. cartoons—my favorites were the Rabbitt season!/Duck season! battles between Bugs and Daffy Duck, I'd have to be looney tunes not to have bought them. See what I did there?

For my more serious scribblings, and because I love almost everything having to do with space travel, I also ordered the insipiring First Moon Landing stamps. And when serious words cross over to somber, the envelopes get the JFK-in-thoughtful-repose treatment.

I don't collect stamps, but I do enjoy them. Always have. In fact I've written about them on here before.

Anyway, I'd like to encourage you, all nine readers, to remember the joy and surprise of getting a letter from a friend or loved one. A postcard from a foreign land (for the last eight months that'd be anyplace outside your house). Put yourself on an email diet, and start writing actual letters again. They'll be more meaningful, plus you'll have time to think about what you're writing before you hit send. And by hitting send I mean dropping it in the mailbox. If your mailbox wasn't removed by DeJoy.

While you're at it be sure to buy lots of stamps at USPS.com to support the postal service. After all, they're the fine people (not on both sides) who played a huge, instrumental part in saving democracy and delivering the millions of ballots that made sure the Traitor-In-Chief didn't get a second term.

And in my book, that alone makes them a first-class operation.