Apart from a £5 digital Casio which I use to time my swimming (also while ski-ing, until old age took away my lift-pass), I have only owned two wrist-watches. Both Longines, both the subject of some sentiment.
The one on the left was a gift from my mother for my twenty-first which, incidentally, I spent at a military hospital in the Cameron Highlands in Malaya, suffering from terminal athlete’s foot. The one on the right was a thirtieth-wedding anniversary present from my wife. Both keep excellent time given their technology. Which means that the older watch, being mechanical, cannot match the younger, electrical one.
I am told that the older watch qualifies as an antique and would make squillions on eBay. I’d rather open my veins.
I mention this because I recently attended an auction where many watches were sold (Only of passing interest; I was there for wine and spent a fortune.). Some were encrusted with diamonds, some had three mini-dials within the main one, some had built-in magnifying glasses. None had faces to equal the clarity of either of mine. In both cases the Longines minute hand is so delicate and the minute divisions so precise you can tell time to 10 seconds – with analogue watches!
As Basil Fawlty said in another context – it’s so basic.
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