SO THE OTHER DAY, a client walks in and pulls out a gold Rolex. New in 1980. Nothing unusual — needed a band adjustment. Something I can do, but I couldn’t do it on the spot, so I asked him to leave it.
I was admiring the watch … told him my dad was obsessed with Rolexes and how he used to say, “You’re never broke when you have a Rolex” — which I thought was just Dad being Dad until I got older and realized he was right on multiple levels.
And then this guy says quite simply: “You know, that was your dad’s watch.”
Holy sh*t.
Turns out my father traded this exact watch for a car back in the day. A classic move by my dad — he was always wheeling and dealing with timepieces.
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The guy was laughing when he told me how years later, when he would see my parents out and about, my dad would poke at him: “Yeah, that car I traded you is a piece of sh*t now, but you still got that Rolex. You definitely got the better end of that deal.”
“These ‘luxury’ pieces we deal with every day? They’re worth way more than their price tags. They’re time machines that hit at random moments — touchstones to people, memories, lessons that shaped us.”
They both laughed about it then, and there I was, laughing about it 45 years later. (That’s so my dad it hurts.)
That night, I was doing nothing and started thinking: Jeez, I’d love to have this watch. It’s a legitimate legacy piece. So, I swallowed my pride and asked if he’d sell it to me.
He very politely said no — he’s passing it down to his son. I can’t argue with that.
But for those few minutes, holding something my dad once wore, wanting it because of that connection, then having to hand it back and watch it walk out the door … it was the ultimate “one that got away.”
Still, it reminded me: these “luxury” pieces we deal with every day? They’re worth way more than their price tags. They’re time machines that hit at random moments — touchstones to people, memories, lessons that shaped us.
When someone’s gone, just touching something they cherished can flood you with decades of shared moments all at once. It’s not the money that comes back. It’s the connections and thin threads.
Maybe we don’t think about it daily, but when those moments hit you? They leave a mark. Bittersweet as hell, but that’s life, isn’t it?
Just some thoughts from a guy who had to give back his dad’s watch.
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