I never got around to blogging all the details of my December trip to Las Vegas for the National Finals Rodeo. I’ve waited too long to go into any detail about the trip now, but there are a couple of things I still plan to mention.
One is the daily reminder I have of the trip: I bought a watch. Now this probably doesn’t seem like a big deal to you, but I’ve never been a watch-wearer (unless a football-themed watch in third grade counts). In fact, for much of my adult life, I’ve sort of been philosophically opposed to watches. We let time run our lives. It’s oppressive, even. Would we even have clocks if employers hadn’t needed a way to systematically lash us to our desks (or factory equipment or whatever)? I have to wonder….
Anyway, in my opinion, time is a tool, and it’s a tool that’s usually used against us. And I never felt like I wanted or needed a constant reminder of that on my arm. Plus, there’s almost never a situation anymore where you need a watch. There’s always a clock around somewhere. If you’ve got a cellphone, the time’s right there on your belt or in your purse. If you’re in a car, the time’s on your dashboard. If you’re out in public, you probably just have to look up to find a clock.
But a few months ago, I saw this beautiful TAG Heuer watch—the brand’s tribute to Formula 1 racing (a passion of mine). The watch appealed to me more as a piece of design than anything else. I kept going back to the jewelry store to admire it. Did I want the blue face, or the red face, or the black face? Did I want the chronograph option, with those extra dials on the face? Did I want the steel or the rubber strap?
So when I was in Las Vegas, shopping at the Venetian’s Grand Canal Shoppes, I popped into every jewelry store to admire the TAG Heuer watches. And at one store, I found the version I’d settled on—the red-faced, chronograph-less option with a steel band. I pulled out the credit card, and soon it was on my arm. Actually, it was on my arm only after the salesman removed what he said were more steel links than he’d ever removed on a man’s watch. Hey, I’ve got petite wrists! But it looks pretty darn good on my petite wrist.
I guess this watch-buying officially makes me a hypocrite. I felt so strongly about not wanting a watch, but then I fell for one. In fact, and I probably shouldn’t admit this, I keep finding other beautiful watches to admire now, too. Like this limited-edition TAG Heuer Monaco Vintage:
Nice, huh? I don’t even want to know how much it costs because I’m sure I can’t afford it. I’ve just got to stay out of jewelry stores for awhile.
I should have my watch engraved: H-Y-P-O-C-R-I-T-E.