family

Son of Watchmaker.

I’m Son of Watchmaker. I didn’t know my father very well before he fell ill and died. Can’t say I know for certain that he’d care very much about Father’s Day if he was still around.

And I strongly suspect, in the end, I wouldn’t have had much to say to him about how differently we would come to view the respective worlds each of us had grown up in.

I was not given approval rights on the bear hat.

I last saw him alive when I was six. He died in a hospital when I was thirteen. He’d succumbed to arteriosclerosis and some form of dementia very likely brought on by the toxic chemicals he’d used every day in his work, repairing and assembling watches. I’d been told he was an educated, old-world gentleman who enjoyed discussing the Talmud with his father-in-law, that he had been injured during World War II, and that he had no head for business. What other things I was told about him were a bit subjectively colored to consider reliably reported, knowing the source.

I’m Son of Watchmaker. Bearing little physical resemblance to the few pictures I have of that husky Polish man, I’ve had to figure out what that means. I’m nominally intelligent, enjoy working with gadgets, and have some artistic capability. I try to be kind, but possess a cynical, anticipatory predisposition for  resentment towards perceived injustice. I have no head for business, but can keep very good records of transactions and correspondence. I aspire to spirituality while detesting the shabby, despicable promises of organized religion.

Did I inherit any of this from him? Or was it just the morbid pessimism and a tendency to sweat excessively? I physically resemble my maternal grandfather far more. And he’s the guy I truly wish I could speak with now, as an adult. That guy was a poet. Genial, too. Bit of a cornball.

I’m Son of Watchmaker. Someone let me know what you think that means.

Advertisements
Standard

6 thoughts on “Son of Watchmaker.

  1. Greg Gehr says:

    I had a contentious relationship with my Father growing up, his politics and mine were like mixing matter and anti matter, guaranteed to cause one hell of an explosion. Yet as we grew older (after I had a child of my own), we both realized that, despite our differences, we were very much alike in so many other ways, and those ways were special to us both. I strongly suspect if you had been given the opportunity to know your dad more, you would have found the same. Be glad Adobe software doesn’t emit toxic fumes, Son of Watchmaker!

  2. moeskido says:

    I caught some of those toxic fumes doing traditional pasteup way before the Mac became a useful replacement. I’m grateful every day for Moore’s Law, Steve Jobs, and John Warnock.

    I suspect a relationship with my own father would have followed similar paths to yours, but what little I can derive from his contemporaries in my family suggests much greater obstacles to reconciliation. One often hears about how self-absorbed American Boomers can be. To a person, my aunt, uncle, and mother are very much products of an era that left them with enormous degrees of skepticism and certainty about subjects they’ve rarely bothered to fully understand.

    That said, they all knew a good idea when they saw it, and came over to this continent for a better life than their own birthplaces could have given them. They understood the importance of FDR’s New Deal, if not the complete implications of the Civil Rights era.

  3. Kellie says:

    I’m Son of Watchmaker. Someone let me know what you think that means.

    I think it means you’re capable of understanding both the inner workings of concrete things and the abstract universal concepts they represent. As you’ve shown with this excellent post.

  4. Pingback: Thoughts on that other day. | Moeskido

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s