zOwie Omega Discussion Forum

Never before in my life have I had such an emotional attachment to a physical object as I do for my Omega Seamaster Professional Quartz model. At your indulgence, I'd like to share my history with this watch.

2001: Bought used for $400 from a retiring professional diver who had had it for three years. My first "real" watch. Came on a rubber watch strap, which the diver told me was much more practical for diving. Wore it in NYC on 9/11, and to this day the II motif at the 12 o'clock position reminds me of that day.

2002: Graduation from High School. Would swim several miles every weekend off the coast of Maine in 60 degree water with the watch on my wrist. Proposed to my high school girlfriend wearing the SMP. Moved away from home for University. Got in several fistfights which the Seamaster survived admirably (my pride was another story). First martini, first taste of real Scottish whisky. Discovered my passion in writing and wrote my first short story. I recorded the exact time I finished, 5:32 am, on my Seamaster.

2003: Road trips all over the US, from the deep south to the Pacific northwest and back again. Marriage to my high school sweetheart falls apart and I mark the time: 7:50 pm.

2004: Moved to Tokyo to live and learn Japanese. The clicks as I advanced the hour hand on my watch are clear in my head as I landed at Narita. Lived in poverty, ate noodles, made many great friends. One night, I'm knocked unconscious outside a club. I wake up and my money is gone, my cell phone is gone. My watch, somehow, is still on my wrist. Later, when one of the worst typhoons of the year knocked out rail service, I walked home 2 miles in 60 mph winds, water sloshing around my ankles, and rain literally taking the shirt off my back. When I got home, even the cash in my pocket had dissolved to pulp. My boots fell apart as I pulled them off, and I was sure I had contracted pneumonia. The Omega kept ticking, right as ever.

2005: Graduation from University. The original band included with my watch is falling from my wrist. I eschew a class ring in favor of a brand new Omega bracelet. Got a job in a prominent corporate real estate firm. Fast track. A wonderful girlfriend. Think my life is really adding up to something I don't want.

2006: I leave the job. I leave the girlfriend. I move to Scotland to work as a writer. Drink ale in the pubs and write my first book. First Cuban cigar. For the first time ever, I send my watch to be serviced (battery replacement and resealing). The watch comes back from London on the day promised. The gentleman at the jewelry store who handled the process for me comments on the age and condition of my watch, amazed at how well it has held up. He offered me the option of trading up for a brand new automatic, at a very reasonable price.

I looked at him as if he just asked me to leave my wife of fifteen years for a 23 year old starlet. He asked me to divorce the one thing that was always there for me, no matter the distance, the odds, the stress or the conditions. A device that had survived the depths of the ocean with another owner, and had travelled thousands of miles on my wrist, ticking quietly along the way. I politely declined.

I know that these adventures don't amount to much, and I apologize if I come off gushing like an advertisement for Omega. The truth is, I care little for the idea of collecting watches or comparing time gained/lost, or for horology. I simply wanted to share the history and the affection I have for this whirring little hunk of metal, and the hope I have for the future I'll share with it.