Some people might consider me to be a “Redneck,” since I grew up in the Midwest and lived in Texas for seven years. My experience has always been that “rednecks” always live south of you. Webster defines the derogative term as “a working-class white person, especially a politically active one from a rural area.” Synonyms include Cracker, White Trash, and Hillbilly, but “Southern” seems to also fit into the stereotype. I wonder if there are “Rednecks” in Southern Oregon, and, if so, do they look down on Northern Californians in the same manner? Comedian Jeff Foxworthy has made a living on the term with 300 reasons why you might just be one? A memorable line that I got a chuckle out of was, “you might have been a Redneck if your dying words were ‘hold my beer and watch this!'”

I mention these particular words of humorous significance, because I happen to have watches on my mind today. I’ve owned many in my lifetime, including a Mickey Mouse watch that I got as a kid, to my most recent Apple Watch that has been a source of hassle this morning. I think Mickey lasted longer because it was probably a Timex, and as a result”kept on ticking.”  The Apple stopped ticking last night, having entirely lost its LED display (also see Post #354) after less than two-years of wear. I guess I should feel lucky that it didn’t crap-out the day after the one year warranty expired. At least, I got a few more months use out of it, but first the upper right-corner went dark, and then only the very bottom showed any life. I got very little sympathy at the Apple Store.

Before I got into the digital world of watches, I bought a fancy Rado watch at a jewelry store in Orvieto, Italy. Rado is a Swiss watchmaking company, and it was the most I ever spent on a watch, even after converting the cost from Italian lira to U.S. dollars.  I saw the timepiece in the display window, but could not communicate with the store owner inside. What I remember most is that I was not feeling well, suffering from a bad cold, but was fascinated by the transparent back that showed the internal gold mechanism in action. One of my traveling companions went into the store with me and witnessed the transaction, also impressed with its unique style and classy look. After buying my new watch, I proudly wore it back to the hotel to show it off and enjoy a grappa nightcap to celebrate. I then stumbled to my room, took another large dose of cough medicine, placed the prized watch on my nightstand, and promptly passed out cold. At some point in the middle of the night, I woke up and checked the time. The watch was not working! My expensive Italian souvenir was not ticking and the mechanism was not moving, as I quickly sobered up, worried about trying to take the watch back on a Sunday. Would they even be open? Or, as my imagination began to overreact, had they closed shop and ran off with my lira? Any sleep was then restless, and the hands on the watch-face continued to stay in one place, until I stormed into the store the next morning.  It was awkward, trying to convey my dilemma to the shopkeeper, especially since we didn’t speak the same language. As it turned out, the watch was not automatic, so it needed simply to be wound, and I was too embarrassed to ask for a refund. Instead, I kept the watch, eventually got a watch-winder as a gift and loved wearing it for many years. The story only added to its value!

Before this major purchase, I went from Mickey Mouse to watch-less throughout the school years, bought a shiny gold Citizen watch with advertising trade dollars in my late twenties (See Post #329), wore a commemorative Indiana University Bulova my dad gave me, experimented with a couple of Rolex and Gucci knock-offs, and even temporarily sported a Michael Johnson Swatch given to me after meeting the Olympic gold medalist. I teased him about missing the “t” in his similar last name, and admired his gold track shoes and speed. This was the cheapest watch I ever wore, and it “ran fast” like my near-namesake. Also in this time span, my grandfather left me two antique pocket watches and my son gifted me a personalized one at his wedding. I wore these on occasion when three-piece suits were still in fashion. Predictably over the last ten years, I graduated to the digital era, moving from a Nike Fuelband to the present-day defective Apple Watch, to monitor my running. These digital watches do not have much longevity, as their internal components are sensitive to moisture, and need to be replaced frequently as I’ve learned. My self-winding Rado watch was indisputably the most reliable one I ever owned, and didn’t need to be charged or its batteries replaced. I might just strap it on again until I decide what direction to go next.

To be quite honest, I was only expecting about two years use out of the Apple, but I’m disappointed in failure after less than 18 months. They were not very flexible at the Apple Store this morning and I am not willing to invest another $300-$400 to replace it. The manager’s attitude was to suggest that I buy the Apple Care extended warranty on my next purchase, but I feel that any product that lasts only a year and a half is not worth owning. There was no offer for a discount or any compensation for my loss from the three employees that I spoke with today, so I simply walked out. “Watch this!” were not my final redneck words, since I had no thought of “risking” anything. Instead, I turned towards the door and thought, just “Watch” me walk away over your damn watch, and Swatch me next time!

“Does anybody really know what time it is?” I don’t. In fact, this Redneck can’t even tell time right now.

Is it “Miller Time” yet? (See Post #35)