The Watch Repairman

While walking my dog, I stopped by Frank's to say Hi and saw he was sitting in the backyard with Abe. The two of them - at 89 and 90 - were planning out the bus schedule so they could go to the watch store to change the battery in Frank's watch. I told Frank that I had a few things to do in the morning but that I'd take him later in the day. He kept staring at his watch. I said, "Frank, what are you looking at? It's not working." He said, "I do everything by the watch." Frank likes to structure his life and he uses his watch to maintain that structure. He constantly looks at his watch and sets up activities throughout the day which need to be done at certain times. Especially lunch. He will look at his watch and say, "I need to think about what to make for lunch." Then he'll sit quietly and think. So, not having a working watch was making him anxious.

Frank wanted to go to a particular watch store, Majestic Jewelry, because he's known John for many years and tells me that he's the best. He didn't remember the name of the store but I drove slowly down Fairfax until he recognized it. Frank has a gold and silver Seiko which he got when he retired. He says proudly, "At the time I think it was $300. And with the engraving... who knows." The union head took up a collection from the other cabinetmakers to buy Frank the watch. It has his name and the year he retired - 1983, I believe.

John is a Bulgarian born watch repairman who's been repairing watches for "almost 50 years." His business sits in an old storefront with an old sign. But the people who go to him have been doing so for many years and they don't go for the aesthetics. They all go because John's the best.

Frank waited a few minutes for his battery to get changed and said to me, "You see how fast he does it?" He was no longer anxious. He looked down at his watch and smiled. And then I drove him home.

Meditate Daily

I often walk Frank to the produce store at the corner so I can help him carry his groceries home. Every time we walk he takes a break in the same place in order to catch his breath. On this particular day he decided to give me some unsolicited advice. I turned the camera on and tried to get him to repeat it. He confused the word “yoga” for “meditation,” but I know what he meant. He wants me to be calmer and to take time out every day where I sit quietly and think about nothing. He thinks it will help me live longer. I tend to always be doing something. I don’t often sit quietly unless I’m reading a book or doing some writing, and even then my fingers and toes are tapping. And of course, even then I’m doing something. I’m reading. I’m writing. I’m not just sitting, alone with my thoughts. I distract myself constantly. The computer. The TV. The phone. I keep these things close by to give me something to do at all times. I’m impatient. I’m impulsive. I’m the opposite of Frank.

This morning, I walked over to Frank’s to say Hi. He was showing me the strawberries he planted when I remembered an orange tree I had in a pot behind my apartment. I had planned on planting it one day when I owned my own place. Since I have no idea when that day will ever come I offered the tree to Frank. I borrowed his dolly, ran home to get it, and wheeled it back over to his house. I figured I’d drop it off, say goodbye, and eat a late breakfast but Frank had taken out the hoe and was waiting for me to dig. I didn’t want to but I can’t say No to Frank so I started digging. He occasionally stood up to give me direction. I told him to sit down. We argued as we sometimes do--silly arguments about where to dig, how to break apart the rotted root we found buried in the ground, how deep the hole should be, and so on. The skin on the side of my thumb peeled away but I kept digging. Then I cut the plastic pot off of the orange tree and planted it. I covered it with soil, some powdered manure Frank had in his garage, and then the rest of the soil. It’s a really hot day today and I was a bit tired. But I was proud of the work I did. As I was watering the newly planted tree, Frank said, “You’re impatient but you get it done.” I said, “Do you still think I need to meditate?” He looked at me, thought for a moment, and said, “You still need to meditate."