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| Barrett models real Rolexes plus the Walmart possibilities |
When I last posted, I was rendering unto Rolex that thing which was Rolex's for an estimate of the cost of repairs and contemplating life ahead without my watch. Barrett was contemplating it too, and so she wrote the following, titled It's
About Time. . .My Life With (and without ) My Luxury Watch
You should take that $800 right to Walmart (or maybe
it was Lowes ) and buy 40 more Disney-themed watches. Then you could put on a new one each time the battery on the one you’re wearing
gives out— for, say, the rest of your life! And just think of the money you
will save by not having to spring for another 40 + years of
repair work on your real Rolex!
OMG! Or: We can use the money you’ll save to fund one of
those “true life” docudramas that covers your life from when you got your
first Rolex ‘til some future date, when you’ll be wearing one of the 40
Disneys on your wrist next to your Rolex , which has finally
given up the ghost.
In the last, fade-to-black scene as your life story is
obviously coming to an end, you and the Rolex representative who took us to
lunch in Manhattan are sitting side by side in your respective wheelchairs in
the nursing home, and the Rolex rep is now part of the
family. He’s spent so much time with you
over the years trying to get your Rolex working that you and he have become
husband and wife…( I do hope you saved the man’s card so we
can find him and cast him.)
With your great and great grandchildren at your knees,
surrounding you and pretending to listen to your “glory days” stories which
they've heard a hundred times, you hold your watch hand aloft and assume
that “crooked little finger “ pose you used to strike when looking
proudly at your expensive timepiece. (I’m not sure you still do it now.
I loved that pose—you tell me!) You and husband snort and chuckle while you try to
remember your days on Everest, exploring Russia with Al and Tipper, in the
water wearing your Rolex while Chuck makes his moves on you, on the road with
Travis, interviewing Clint and Meryl. . .( FYI: Who says your autobiography
won’t sell? Only you!!)
Sound Great? Our award winning documentary will sell in
concert with your book, of course. Rolex will love the concept. The film will
premiere at Cannes. Got that? Why not? You’ve got the chops, and we got
the time—all that Heaven will allow.
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| Timepiece choice for the present: Saddam or Mickey. Barrett says my arm looks like a corpse. |
4 comments:
Love it... LOVE IT. The only major glitch here is I CAN"T FIND THE ROLEX REP"S NAME or card. I have some vague memory of him NOT HAVING A PRINTED CARD.! Could Rolex, sensing we weren't ALL THAT have pawned us off on some minor exec? I mean , I always assumed with the amount of steam coming out of your ears when you described the meltdown on Everest they were all, from the top to the bottom of their PR hierarchy , posed to give you and your watch the Red Carpet treatment... but what if.. WHAT IF? they were REALLY thinking " Hey... thee chicks don't even have a limo... or a bodyguard ...Maybe they aren't such a much after all.. Let Ted in middle management give them the modest booth lunch they deserve and save the Tavern on the Green slot for .. who was hot that year? ? Perish the thought. But .. what if? Well...let's carry on as originally envisioned...I mean, if the chief Execs at Rolex were really cowed wouldn't they have offered to pay for your repair? HMM... all very troublesome. xxxxxx B
Your arm looks just fine !!! It was some other earlier picture that was so.. moribund, fr some reason. The lighting, no doubt. XXXX B
Look,,, after all this fun was said and had and been done, here's the bottom line. If you could have heard the rant I've been on for the better part of the night you'd realize I'm so mad at you I can hardly see straight.
Fourty years ago when we were all flying to Hawaii together for Thanksgiving the first time and we'd rented that yuck house without even a night table in the bedrooms... I think I made a table for my night light from a cardboard box!!! remember that one? When you were the Ultra-cool big wig masthead journalist for Life and all those big deal magazines, Yes.. I wanted what you had. Not your watch per se, but one just like it because to me, you were The State of the Art and I wanted to hold my finger aloft, be the writer with the oh-so- gorgeous baby girl and a real ( even if Wacko) husband to add to your cachet. I wanted to be you... with all the trappings.. not the precariously placed non-married sort-of sister in law.
Pastor
But now, fourty years and many marriages and several estate jewelry stores later ( and help! I'm fading fast. I've come to realize that Rolex is so beyond totally Over. They make a product that is uncomfortable, undependable, and in my humble opinion, if you want to compare it to other luxury watch brands out there at present... For God'd sake, do yourself a favor and fix yours for its history and all the memories, but if you or any of your Luxury-Watch Loving Progeny want a watch, at least buy an entry level Cartier like my personal favorite , The newly re-issued Panthere,
So. now'..the Big Question Why Am I Mad at You?
Simple. but astonishing to me. Tonight you revealed you have been harboring a belief and I assume resentment that four or possibly five years ago when we were last on Block Island in the very late fall and I agreed (reluctantly, since I knew I had to cover the phones as the ONLY WORKING CAB on duty that night, that you were convinced, or at least suspicious, that my abrupt departure for a call at the airport was NOT the result of a legitimate job but my need to pick up My Fix in the form of my legitimate refill that night at NEA. Now.. this was what.. about four or five years ago? Are you kidding me? Your Conclusion : I Have an Addiction to Pain Killers. Yep! So? Am I in the habit of spanking you when you tear off to Arron Mitchell's to buy the six pack you need to get through the night. I AM SO SORRY!! I remember that job (Kind of) and the crazy lady who at that point lived just past the dump on the left and who also usually forgot to have cash to pay for the run but could be counted on to make it up to you ( i.e me) the following day or whenever with a generous tip.
Now.. I don't honestly remember whether I had a script MYSELF as well or not.. but I do remember warning you that even though I wanted to help you and share the entertaining aspects of Host/Hostess and see everyone of whom I am and was very fond that night but... SHIT!!! What the hell?? So I'm thinking that maybe since your Father and Mother are both gone you have no one to tell you how Bad You Are, so You've decided to tell Me How Bad I am.
Well.. how did it work out for you four years ago on that foggy Saturday night? Did you feel better?
ARE YOU LOSING IT?
Ok.. Fear Not... Here's what I did tonight to wack myself upside the head for that Bad Thing of Me I surely did.
I turned to God. I called my Pastor and explained the challenges the day was placing before me to resolve. So We met ( me, Him and Pastor Richard) and we prayed long and earnestly .
My Father, My God, make me strong , To Greet them With This Triumph Song,
Even God Sometimes Needs a Chair, A Nice Red One With Cushions Fair,
God Grant me the Serenity to Accept the Chair,
Make Me Chairman of the Board, Oh My Soul...
La De Da! Come A Dancing With Me...
How Will I Know if He Really Loves Me?
All was going so well until I noticed Pastor Richard had fallen asleep on the one chair he said was to be mine , and I the only way I could see to get him off My Chair was to Bite Him, and then Sister Weezie called the police, and Damn ! We all had to have rabies shots,
So lets's be Chairful now When we Are Weary Lest We Fall Asleep on another Pastor , Have to Bite Him and undergo a series of Rabies Vaccinations.
I just love my Faith. You? Adieu, Sister Camerine
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