Watching Your Dollars and No Sense

I could not help but notice a rash of bunny rabbits running around the island as of late, so Easter must be near? That also means the official firing of the starter pistol to begin the end of the 2025 season on and over the Jolley Bridge.

It also a signal to the local socially challenged island inhabitants that the coast will soon be clear (literally) for them to come out of their shuttered abodes to once again breathe fresh air. This also means soon we can drive from point A to point B on the island without taking 45 minutes to go the length of a football field. Most of all, they can now frequent their favorite restaurants, watering holes, Resident’s Beach, and whatever else they seek to do where there are no longer defrosting huddled masses. Some snowbirds and long-term visitors may snicker at my comments, but unless you have ever spent some time here in the “off season,” you would certainly understand what I’m saying. Sure, it’s hotter than the surface of the sun in the summer, and trying to remain calm here during hurricane season is tantamount to being a goldfish in a Waring blender. I’ve lost count how many times I have sat in the dark waiting for my roof to blow off, not a great holding-hands-singing-Kumbaya experience.

I just survived my 31st season in a row, and besides living here full time, I also own an island business. Of course, I welcome and benefit from each and every new season, but I also relish the fact that it will eventually come to an almost grinding stop after Mother’s Day.

Those of you who have been following my column all these many years are aware of my Boston inner-city parochial upbringing. I was even an altar boy, which was a short-lived career that had something to do with me being accused of absconding with a portion of sacrificial wine, a case (not a bottle) where I pleaded the fifth. Those who know me are aware of my sarcastic nature, something I’m told could be easily remedied by thousands of dollars of professional therapy. Instead of wasting my money on that, I decided to waste it on self-prescribed therapy help by practicing “Excess in Moderation,” subjecting myself to travel, cuisine, fine brandy, and cigars. I’m not sure it’s helping any, but I’m surely enjoying myself in my “Golden Years”!

My daughter Lindsay recently wrote a piece in her “Jeweler’s Daughter” column about not being “Bob.” It reminded me of an incident many summers ago with a gentleman… let’s call him Stan. This adventure was at my old location on Front Street. My first impression of Stan was not a good one; first of all, his parking ability and second of all he was on his cell phone out front. This caused me to interrupt and ask him to back up his Benz a bit because his bumper and hood ornament were three inches from my front door, preventing anyone larger than Miss Olive Oil from entering my place of business. So, needless to say, we were not off to a great start. Now with his feathers ruffled he barked, “What do you charge to change a watch battery?” (Why in the world do all my years of heartaches and stress involve men and women and their watches?) My answer was.. What make do you have? Different prices for different watches! His reply was, “Why should that matter?”

“Well sir a simple replacement is $10 to $15 and high grade watches can cost more depending on the degree of difficulty and the time it takes me, amount of tiny screws, battery size and yes I had to say it. It also depends on the customer’s attitude! What watch brand do you need a battery for?” “It’s my beloved Corum!” Swell, the model Corum watch on his wrist was a rare model; it’s a meticulously crafted American 19th century $20 dollar gold coin turned into a very expensive wristwatch. (In used condition, they fetch over $10,000 easily).

The watch movement is inserted into the coin like a sandwich; it’s more than a watch, it’s a piece of art. It is also a royal pain in the butt to change the battery on these. Some contain eight to ten tiny 18kt. gold screws holding on the back, in some the case is engineered so tightly you cannot get a razor blade between the upper and lower case to remove the back of the coin and risk scratching it to change the well-hidden battery. Then there is the special super thin rubber gasket that most likely has turned to the consistency of bubble gum on a Floridian sidewalk. So, his watch is basically a hand grenade with the pin pulled out! 

Remember now he said “Beloved.”  I told him forty-five dollars and you can pick it up tomorrow. “$45! That’s larceny. Where’s your mask and gun? I’m not leaving it!”  Fine, I said… You don’t have to leave it because I’m not touching it. I handed it back - have a great day! Wait till he finds out if anyone else changes that battery; they will make a mess of it or destroy it and charge three times what I was asking to do it. On his way out he yelled, “Will you do it today for $40?” 

“Not for a thousand dollars, my friend… Adios…”

After insulting me more than once, plus the sarcastic volleys I sent his way, I figured I had seen the last of “Stan.”                        

It’s now around noon, and I probably changed a dozen batteries or more. Most were happy customers except one… I call her “Louise” (not her real name to keep me out of a courtroom). She presented me her husband’s Timex in need of a battery, so she said. This watch looked like it went through two wars and a dozen hurricanes; it was corroded, the face was full of rust, and the crystal was so scratched I could barely see the numerals. It certainly was not running and telling time, it had to be over 40 years old!

I figured what the heck, I’ve seen worse, replaced many a battery in a beat up watch and the darn things would work. Sadly, this was not the case with the watch “Louise” presented me with. I was pretty sure a new battery would not remedy the problem. Nevertheless, I carefully removed the old one and replaced it with a new… Nope, nada, nothing happened! Still dead as a doornail, I handed it back to “Louise.” “I’m sorry, Louise. I tried everything to get it running, it has other issues other than the battery!” What happened next I was not prepared for; she lost her mind. “What are you talking about! That watch was in perfect working order when I gave it to you. What did you do to it back there?” 

Geez Louise! This watch looks like ten miles of bad road. I did not expect it to run, and by the way, your original ‘dead battery’ was not fully dead, and I replaced it anyway and left it in there hoping for a miracle. I ran out of miracles today. That thing cost $12 in 1970. I think your husband got his money’s worth; it’s time to toss it or have a private ceremony and lay it to rest. Be reasonable. Besides, if it were running perfectly, why are you even here in the first place?

Besides letting her have the free new battery, I offered to find her a new Timex to no avail; she was mad as a wet hen! She convinced herself I “destroyed it”! 

The rest of the day didn’t go much better. I spent the better part of an hour explaining to a woman that just because the nice lady on the TV shopping station said any jeweler would enlarge the gold ring she purchased three sizes up for only $5 does not mean I will!

Now, don’t lose sight of the fact I’m a jewelry shop. Next customer presented me with a pair of sat-on eyeglasses, telling me to repair them and replace the lenses while I’m at it! “Sir, this is a jewelry store and I made a deal with Dr. Madison. He promised not to sell diamonds, and I don’t repair or replace lenses on eyeglasses!”

The rest of the afternoon I was presented with broken Irish tap shoes, a handbag strap, and a broken wall clock. The next-to-last customer of the day certainly took the cake, a headless lawn statue that needed the head reattached. Some broken jewelry to fix would be nice - I can’t make this stuff up, folks! 

It’s now minutes before closing and I’m counting the seconds; boy, do I need a brandy (or two!) To my horror, as I’m locking the door, there’s the Benz hood ornament three inches from the door again… Stan has returned! With his Corum watch in hand, “Please, please let me in.” “Sorry, I’m closed!” I tried to shush him away, but he put his foot in the door. No, No, Nay! Bad move, I yelled. I made it clear to you this morning… Vamoose!

“ Please, I drove all over Naples and Ft. Myers today. You were the most reasonable price to change my battery!” So that’s your idea of a compliment?

Sorry Stan after you left this morning the little voices in my head told me that you and that darn watch are really bad Mojo, I’m not touching it! Please step aside and move your car, I just set the alarm, and I’m late for my shock treatment and jeweler’s group therapy session! Have a good night and by the way…that sure is a beautiful watch. Too bad it doesn’t tell time!