In a masterstroke of irony, Apple, preeminent among consumer electronics companies which have rendered the common wristwatch useless, has decided to raise the critter from the dead. Maybe they’ll call the thing Lazarus, no other moniker would be more apt.
Once upon a time, everybody wore watches. Mickey Mouse started us out, waving from the faces of our first celebratory little timepieces, then we moved on to more sophisticated devices, eventually incorporating them as status symbols, like Armani suits and Rolls-Royce automobiles. Rolex became the ultimate reference point, with products like the Prestige Time selling for a sinful $1,251,360, enough to buy a summer house on the Bay of Fundy.
Then, as if by magic—POOF!—watches disappeared overnight, the victims of the terrible Cell Phone Massacre. Who needed an extra appendage when you had the time right there on your cell? Not to mention the weather, the ballgame scores, the best route to Biloxi and grandma’s suggestions for canning guyabano. Oh, the Rolex-wearers hung around, possessed of a different purpose, but for the rest of us watches became an afterthought. Forget your watch? Oh well, no matter.
Now that everyone in the country has purchased at least a half-dozen frippery-laden cell phones, the market is, like Bill’s hair, thinning. There are still a few neanderthals like me, of course, bumbling around with those flip-top phones that everybody makes fun of, but our numbers decrease daily. And even many of us are toting around fancy new IPads, donated to us by sympathetic mates who are worried that we are missing something. Even I have one. It’s called an IPad Air, probably because it is much lighter than the clunkier IPad Ground, which I had previously and retain today for Flying Pie activities. (When we opened the nice new IPad Air, Siobhan was chagrined to discover the cover was a bright, shiny granny-apple green. “That thing is going to get dirty fast,” she said. I thought so, too. But those guys at Apple are nobody’s fools. They coated the thing with liquid Kryptonite and nothing intrudes, not dirt, not sweat, not even errant coffee wanderings. It’s virtually invulnerable, although we haven’t tried tomato soup, yet.)
Anyway, Apple found itself running out of customers for phones, tablets and what-have-you, so a new product became essential. Let’s think—what would people like that no longer exists? AHA! WATCHES! The cheapest Apple watch is $349, but that’s designed for fitness enthusiasts and doesn’t put in the sexy appearance of the $549 stainless steel version designed for everyday wear. Oh, and if you’re a showoff, you can pick up a luxury edition (18-karat gold) starting at $10,000 and running to $17,000 for insufferable megalomaniacs. If you think these things sound a little expensive, well, you can actually talk to people on them. If I remember correctly, however, you could also talk to people on Dick Tracy’s Wrist Radio, which only cost a couple of dollars and a few cereal boxtops. How come we can’t get any of this stuff for a few boxtops today? Oh, we can? I see. The Apple people just emailed to inform me that you can get your nice new Apple watch for just ONE container top from Almas Iranian Beluga Caviar, although it’s running a smidge high this week at $35,000 a kilogram. Whatever happened to the barter system?
Who Needs It?
Well, all those gadget-crazy folks who simply must possess the latest thing. They line up at their local retailers hours before opening to insure acquiring the precise instrument in the correct color, sorta like buying a car only for more money. Of course, it’s entirely possible that someone might actually need a car someday, what with groceries to buy, kids to deliver to school, drive-in movies to investigate. Oh, and don’t forget McDonalds, where it’s no longer allowed to physically go inside the place. Nope, everybody must now proceed to the drive-up window, even though it takes five times as long. But unlike the automobile, the Apple watch has no real purpose not covered by instruments you already have.
Unlike Dick Tracy’s Wrist Radio, you cannot call people with just an Apple watch. It still requires the user to have an IPhone. Um, I don’t want to sound like a dumbhead, but could I ask a little question? If I need the IPhone to call, why do I require the watch? Am I missing something here?
Apple will tell you this watch is incredibly accurate, and I believe them. In fact, it is accurate to within 15 milliseconds of the universal time standard. See, for people like me, this is not the biggest deal in the world. I just want to know if it’s time yet for Justified to come on or if the coffee is ready. And if I were going to be that fussy, I’d wonder why the damn thing is off by 15 milliseconds.
Tim Cook, the CEO at Apple, wants everyone to know you can even use his watch to check your heart rate. People at my gym can do it cheaper. They use a method called “placing the thumb on the wrist and counting.” It works pretty good most of the time.
Apple says the battery on your new watch should last 18 hours on a single charge. Big whoop. My cell phone does way better than that and Sony’s Smartwatch lasts two days. Just another item to remember to stick in the charger, along with the other forty-five.
Oh, and you can’t wait to hear this—more apps are available to you than ever before with the Apple watch. Unlike your earlier days of deprivation, you will now be able to enjoy a virtual tour through the streets of beautiful Phnom Penh or visit a sandbag-manufacturing plant in Micronesia. Not only that, but even more exciting games are offered than ever before, that’s got to be enticing. Now, hundreds of thousands of additional Americans, immersed in the quicksand of their sticky couches, can vegetate away pushing even more little buttons. Society celebrates.
As for me, I think, after all these years, I finally have enough boxtops saved up to send off for my Dick Tracy wrist radio. Does anybody out there know where to mail the application?
Mom, Are You Sure It’s MY Turn?
Status Symbols
Today it might be the Apple watch, once it was pineapples. Just goes to show you. Except for a few grouches, everybody knows Christopher Columbus discovered America. But almost nobody knows he discovered the Pineapple. When he brought a few back to Spain, Europeans were enthralled. Artists began to paint them. Furnituremakers carved them. By the eighteenth century, being seen with one was an instant indicator of wealth. A single pineapple could cost the equivalent of $8000 today. Less wealthy folks often rented the things for a night to show off to their friends. Just think—Jimmy Dole could have been the King of EVERYTHING.
At times in Western History when food was scarce, Fat Girls were regarded as beautiful, a physical representation of good food and little labor. Today, in parts of the world which still struggle to sustain themselves, Fat remains in fashion. In Mauritania, little girls are sent off to Fat Farms to put on the pounds, eventually attracting the highest quality of husbands. This is terrible news for Mauritanian diet counselors who are often chased down the street with brooms and pelted with fish balls.
Flying First Class, an inordinately more expensive (but much more comfortable) option is an unquestionable status symbol, despite being considered wasteful folly by many. If you ride first class, you can board your plane early, sip a vodka tonic and sniff haughtily at the woebegone passengers on their way to the cattle class seats in back. There is always room in the overhead bin and the stewardesses almost never look like Ma Barker.
Swimming Pools used to be enormous status symbols, though not so much today. In the old days, believe it or not, people actually used the things to swim in. Now, for the most part, they sit idly by, waiting to be cleaned out by irritated homeowners or profiteering pool-cleaning bandits. Fussy people used to demand Guard Booths at the perimeter of their housing developments, where the developers would station well-scrubbed and brawny sentries to discourage intruders. Well, they would until all the houses were sold, anyway. Homeowners were impressed with this feature until they discovered the hiring standards employed were often lacking. You might awake to find Friendly Jack, the axe-murderer, manning the front gate or Charlie the cat-burglar visiting your balcony. Does anybody ask for references any more?
Three-Car Garages, Private Schools for the kids, a Beach House, Holidays Abroad….still nice, but not carrying the cachet they once did. Tennis Courts? A little showy, especially if you can’t really play. Electric Gates? Who cares? A nice Porsche? Doesn’t everybody have one? How about a yard full of Peacocks? Please. They’re so dirty, you know.
I guess we’re just a little jaded by the trappings of wealth and privilege, but maybe that’s a good thing. After all, who is really better than the next person simply because he owns a shiny object, some arbitrary currency which really means nothing in the Cosmic Scheme of things? Well, except for little Marjorie Morningstar, who lives over on the next block. She’s got a PONY!
Questions Of The Week
The Fedex man drove up yesterday, just like he does everyday, to leave off a batch of Pathogenes boxes. Big guy, black, ex-football player named Greg. Larry, the original Fedex man has departed for climes unknown so now we’ve got Greg.
“The main question I have for today,” said Greg, “is who is Uncle Chuck?”
Could’ve knocked me over with a feather. How did this guy, confined to his busy delivery vehicle, have any knowledge of the Dear Abby of Florida marijuana cultivation? It was a poser. But nonetheless, a question we have heard often since last week’s Uncle Chuck column on pot propagation (and no, it’s not me). We gave Uncle Chuck the option of fame or anonymity and he wisely chose the latter. “Much as I’d like to let my Freak Flag fly,” he admitted, “I’d like to remain free to fly it.” And that is why Uncle Chuck is still out there, tripping through the countryside like Johnny Appleseed, fussing over his little charges.
The most-asked question after last week’s column, however, was “When is the best time to start?” To that, Uncle Chuck answers, “All things considered, May 1.” May Day. So the next time you’re watching television and the evening news is showing footage of tanks rumbling through the streets of Moscow, get out in the kitchen and rattle those pots and pans. The time is nigh. Or even ten past it.
Derby Watch
Last week, we gave you the Top Ten Kentucky Derby horses as rated by the Daily Racing Form. On Saturday, the horse ranked Number 2, Bob Baffert’s American Pharoah splashed through the puddles of Oaklawn Park to annex the Rebel Stakes in what amounted to a glorified workout. They should have made his jockey, Victor Espinoza, ride backward to give someone else a chance. This is the horse’s fourth win in five starts and he’s getting better by the day. Current favorite Dortmund better bring his running shoes to Louisville if he’s going to beat this horse. Then again, all the contenders look like world-beaters in March when the competition is dubious and the races are shorter. On May second, the True Test awaits.
That’s all, folks….
