By Mark E. Smith
On Walnut Street in downtown Philadelphia – an upscale shopping district lined with cafes – I’m let into a watch store by a security guard. It’s not an ordinary watch store. In the display cases are literally millions of dollars in watches – Cartier, Breitling, Rolex. I stroll by them casually, with no interest to stop and gaze in the cases.
I have my own watch, which was a gift. I don’t get many gifts, so this watch is especially meaningful to me. No, it’s not a Cartier, Breitling or Rolex. But, then again, I can’t put a value on its sentimental value, so maybe it’s more valuable than any watch in the glass cases – at least to me.
I’m greeted by a woman, and I explain to her that I need my watch band fitted. She gets a gentleman from the back, and he’s glad to help. As he sits at a desk and removes links from my band, I know that his hands rarely touch such a watch as mine, nowhere near the cost of even the least expensive watch in his store.
“I really appreciate your adjusting my watch,” I say. “I realize that it’s nowhere near the level of watches that you sell.”
“Any watch that tells time is a great watch,” he replies with a sincere smile, handing me my watch to try on.
With my watch fit to my wrist, I head back out onto the bustling sidewalk of Walnut Street. It’s as diverse of crowd as you’ll find anywhere. And, I’m struck by the profound words spoken by the gentleman at the watch shop. He really wasn’t just talking about watches, but the people who wear them. Think about how, as a society, we label everyone like watches – labels that often dictate a person’s status – from the wealthy to the homeless, the African American to the Irishman, the gay to the straight, to me, one with cerebral palsy. Yet, we’re all just watches, aren’t we? And, as the gentleman at the watch shop summed up each of us with such humility, Any watch that tells time is a great watch.