Rolex…we don’t need no Rolex

After returning from a remote volcanic island teaming with exotic fish, rental cars, sunsets, and expensive wrist watches, I asked myself, does wearing a luxurious wrist watch make time more precious or would it  feed a grave robber’s family of seven when your pushing daisies?  Does expensive time or the appearance of it worth more than bargain time…say a twenty-buck Timex ticking off the same time for $7,880 less?

Do diamonds set in precious metal coupled with Swiss movement and Oyster Perpetual Datejust II decide the fate of poor children on the south side going to bed at night without a meal?  Probably not, but eight thousand dollars would buy a lot of vitamin D milk cartons.

Is it about bling, oysters, diamonds, gold, and weight lifting for the wrists?

In America we love to show the proverbial “guy next door” all that shimmers and shocks.   We want them to think we have something, we have means.  We own things that falsely generate the appearance of wealth by American conspicuous illusion.

Ownership is also an illusion because the banks are really just loaning us whatever needful thing we pass off as our own needful thing.

So why not wear an inexpensive Timex? It keeps on ticking!  It’s an upgraded Rolex because it actually keeps more accurate time.  It’s a fact, and aptly named Timex.  Rolex means you have to roll your arms in circular motion to keep it ticking.  Or swing your arms wildly when the watch dies after accidentally dropping it in your underwear drawer for 48 hours.

No motion…no ticky-tocky.

Rolex owners want their watch to shout at you loudly with their vigorous wrist-waving every two minutes that elevates the watch within one inch of their nonchalant stare in hope that all those in close proximity will view its glorious movements.  Not the owners, but the watches.  Oyster perpetual movement.  Pearl necklace movement.  Throw a batch of Rolex watches in boiling water and when they are ready, they will open up to reveal the oyster within the case-hardened, palladium shell.

The lush volcanic island had a disproportionate amount of Rolex time-swagger versus Timex non-swagger on everyone including the hotel room cleaners. Island folklore tells of Rolex’s that are naturally formed within coconuts and after ripening they fall to earth and land on the heads of fat-cats, who after being revived, see the broken coconut has within it a shiny god of oyster perpetual movement and must pay homage to it.  They affix it to their wrists like a tattoo without the Hepatitis B.

They wear the Rolex until the gambling addiction takes them to Pawn Stars and they get a hundred bucks for it.   This follows a trip to the wig shop where they sell their hair for $20.  Now with a buck-twenty they can go and buy a fake Rolex, or five times as may Timex watches on Amazon.  You decide.

Until that time of harsh awakening, it will be strapped to their wrist for quick, worshipful glances and hopes that others will pay homage to their shiny time-shackle as well. They will try and convert the volcanic natives to wear the time-god on their wrists.  Selling them fake time-shackles that have all the attributes of the original.  This will please the island gods so the natives can stop throwing their young Timex’s into the fires of Molech.

No more quartz-movement sacrifices.

Since the Rolex does not contain lithium batteries within its heart, they will wave it wildly while chanting incantations of Swiss dialect.

The Pope (no disrespect directly intended), in Vatican City, is guarded 24/7 by Swiss military elites and not because he is The Pope, but that he wears a royal Rolex (Swiss made) handed down by succession from St. Peter.  I know there is a holy scripture engraved somewhere on the Royal Pontiff’s Rolex like:  “Store up for yourselves treasures in heaven…”  The Pope would bring in more bucks than any plate-passing if he was sponsored by Rolex.

(Rolex is a product of Switzerland, along with the obvious…Swiss cheese.  I’ll take the cheese and a pair of those goat-hide leather shorts with suspenders)

Like I said, Swiss guards protect the Vatican.  I think they originally walked the perimeter at the Willie Wonka Chocolate factory or starred in Alice in Wonderland.  Any bad guys going after the Pope would stop out of curiosity or stumble to the ground dizzy by staring at the stripes?  Hire them at Wal-Mart to guard Everlasting Gobstoppers, LaffyTaffy, and Wonka bars.  Let the Mafia guard the Pope.  Wise guys in St. Peters square in big black Lincoln Town Cars with fake Rolex’s and violin cases.

So what is the point of the expensive time shackles?  Why even go there?

Many people go out on a Salvation Army van delivering food to the homeless and poor throughout the week.  They need a new deliver vans badly. The cost? About as much as the average used Rolex – $8000.  They delivers close to 160-240 meals every night.  The van does not have to be wound,  just driven around the poorest areas in Montana.  They deliver milk, sandwiches, cookies, and fruit cups.  No bling where we deliver.

Time is irrelevant to the hungry. Hungry kids don’t care what’s on your wrist, but what’s on a plate and what’s been missing in their stomachs.  Many of them come to the vans and take the sack meals back to their large families, barefoot and dirty.

How come we can owe more to banks then we do society?  Maybe its time to settle for a Timex, or sundials, and store up treasures in Heaven where time is irrelevant but serving “the poor among us” is always relevant.

According to the scriptures, there’s enough bling in Heaven to last for an eternity.

A small container of milk given to a child’s open hand is treasure to them, and meaningful treasure stored up for us.

(Mt. 6:19-21)

19 “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. 20 But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. 21 For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.

Let serving the needy be your heart’s treasure.  It’s time to make a difference.

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About miningtheword

I'm an artist, hack-writer, musician, bicyclist, runner, father, and husband, living the life in Montana. Always enjoying the Big Sky and hopefully making someone smile, think, laugh, ponder, curse and enjoy the days we've been given on earth. Why? Because nobody gets out alive.
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