Those words represent the first ever radio advertisement, the first commercial, from the year 1926. Decades later, many radio stations still used similar language, with a tip of the hat to Bulova, to announce the time at the top of the hour. The days were past when you had to read the time from a large clock with a swinging pendulum. Now you could wear your own "clock" on your own wrist.
I've never owned a Bulova. My first watch was a Mickey Mouse watch, with a red plastic wrist band. A lot of those watches flooded the market, mainly for kids. Even now you can get a used, running, 1950s MM watch for only $75 on e-Bay.
I had other subsequent watches, but the next one I remember well was given to me by my father when I was in high school. It had a gold case and a gold wristband. It had belonged to my grandfather, and then to my dad; each of their names had been engraved on the back with the dates each had received it as a gift. I wore that watch through college. I wish I still had it, or even could remember what happened to it. It was a true heirloom.
All these watches had to be wound once a day. I did so every night while getting ready for bed. It was a habit as automatic as brushing my teeth and setting the alarm. American ingenuity later developed "self-winding" watches; I never had one myself. But at some point, I acquired my first digital watch. A watch that needed no nightly attention, a watch that needed only to have its battery replaced every 18 months or two years.
Again, I don't know when I acquired my first digital watch, but I recall my most memorable one. It was a Kenneth Cole, with a relatively small face and a narrow wristband -- perfect for my thin wrists. It was given to me by my young nephew Denny as a birthday present in about 2000. It was a beautiful, understated watch, and reminded me daily of Denny's generosity and good taste. I wore it for over twenty years, until it finally gave up the ghost.
I replaced it about a year ago with a Fossil watch with a black face that I purchased on Amazon. That watch stopped running about six months after I bought it, after a period of erratic functioning. The battery may simply have given out, but I didn't try replacing it -- it was too large for my wrist, and a bit too glitzy for my taste.
I returned to Amazon last week, and ordered a very basic, very inexpensive Timex. Despite its low price (about $35), it had a slew of excellent reviews, and I recalled having a Timex at some point in my childhood. It arrived by mail yesterday. Its face size was much more proportional to my wrist, and the face was less attention-drawing. Not quite as perfect as the Kenneth Cole from Denny, but I was quite pleased.
And thus surprised when it stopped running about 18 hours after it had arrived and had been strapped on my wrist. Unlike the Fossil, I'm giving this Timex another chance. I took it to a jewelry store today, and was promised a new battery by Saturday. (Their watch expert was out of town.) For a mere $25. Yes, for about 71 percent of the purchase price of the watch, a watch that I assumed came with a fully charged battery.
I'll be happy to wear it when I receive it back, charged up and running, on Saturday. I'm not happy with Amazon, or with the company it represented in the sale. I left a scathing criticism and "one star" rating on their product page, and a tearful complaint on my Facebook page.
That'll show 'em! You don't mess around with this dude, boy. I'd demand $25 for a new battery, plus general damages for my pain and suffering, and emotional scarring. But I just don't have the time. (Hahaha, get it?)
If it still doesn't work after a new battery is installed, I may buy that Mickey Mouse watch. As a statement, as well as a watch.
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