Does anybody really know what time it is?
The clock on my telephone console showed 22 minutes past the hour. Incoherent, given that the wall clock showed 37 past and the computer screen announced 35 past. Three times, in perfect disaccord.
Maybe things were easier when people depended on the rooster for a wakeup call, although my experience is that poultry are noisy just about all day long. A variation on the sleep button. And if the birds in my neighbourhood can serve as reference, the cock probably predicted the sunrise. Not exact.
How about the church bells, or the factory horn, respectively signaling the Angelus or lunchtime. At least once each day, the hour was correct. At home, I depend on the cable TV box to give me a time check; I’m too lazy to tune in CHU on the shortwave bands. And I do have a pocket wrist watch that keeps “good time”. When I compare it to the bus depot clock, the variation is only a few seconds. Don’t mention my real pocket watch, that requires winding every day. I’m not disciplined enough for that.
Crazy times, when we have so many ways of measuring time, and so few to accord them. Can’t “run a railway” like that. At least the buses rarely run early. It’s logical that so many of the people around me depend on their cellphones to know the current hour: carriers need to bill to the nearest tick, so the clock is integral to their cause. I work inside, so the sun isn’t an option, although there’s a lovely sundial in the city centre.
Maybe Chicago had it right: “Does anybody really know what time it is? Does anybody really care? “
