Gadget Lust...

Often, my love and lust for gadgets pushes me to conjure a justification. Why do I need that again? As a kid, trapped for too many hours in a house where I didn’t make the rules, escape was vital. Don’t get me wrong, I had great parents, supportive, loving, all that, but my big dream when growing up was to be... grown up! On my own. My life, my rules. So you do what you have to while you’re in the Gulag, until that freedom time shows up. Along with my friend, David, we strung an insulated wire out from my bedroom window, making a long dip to the top of the roof on the detached garage, then lowering slightly out to the big Oak in his back yard, and down into a window at his ground floor den. That’s where he had a telegraph key that matched mine. We both learned Morse code and spent many stay-at-home school nights tapping away the blues. Deep conversations. “fuck you!” “fuck you back!”. That was an excellent gadget.

A microscope took me into the world of microbiology. I made a soup of boiled straw and added a cup of critter water from a pond nearby. Populations of single cell organisms exploded, almost overnight. A single drop on a slide revealed hundreds, thousands, ciliated hairs flapping in busy traffic, bumper cars with no monitored direction, Times Square on New Year’s eve. Gadget escapism for me. I loved that microscope, almost like a first car, it took me joyfully down so many new roads, into worlds I hadn’t even known existed.

One Christmas, Grandpa gave me a working steam engine. About the size of a shoebox, that thing could build steam to the point where you thought it may explode, releasing frantic energy in controlled bursts of its loud whistle, flywheel spinning crazy fast, like a stationary locomotive on speed. When I went off to college, Mom sold it in a yard sale as she and dad moved into a smaller home. She just didn’t understand how much that steam engine meant to me. I wasn’t happy that she sold my two Timber Wolf pelts (no I would never own them now), my arrowhead collection, the seashells or those two bowling pins either. One of those striped pins had fallen off the top shelf when I messed with something on the bottom, and knocked me out cold. I was the only one home at the time and apparently took quite a junket into la-la land that afternoon. The goose-egg on my head being the only reminder of my journey. But, when I learned that my stuff was gone, it was beyond upsetting. I still lament not having those things with me today.

Then there was my Accutron watch that I had lobbied my parents for so irritatingly. The tuning fork forever humming an F sharp, giving me time that was accurate to within 1 or 2 seconds a day. That was cutting edge stuff then. I put it to my ear and loudly hummed that F sharp for the choirmaster when we sang at Westminster Abbey. He had forgotten his pitch pipe and needed a starting point. Of course I didn’t need that precision, especially at age 15 when I mostly just blew with the wind, but I backed into the need through rationalization. It was important that I be on time, like I had said I would be. Actually, I’ve always been that way and will normally arrive for an appointment ten minutes early, even if it means I sit in my car for just a bit. But the point here, is the gadget. That watch was the coolest cat in town. My Grandfather was so jealous of it, he ran right out and bought one too.

Maybe I got the love of gadgets from him. He was the king of cool cameras and cutting edge technology when it came in small machines to read the weather or his heart rate. Maybe a special patterned, waterproof, cylindrical pill holder. He didn’t really need that either. Of course he always carried a stainless steel pocket knife, very thin, two blades, a small flat-head screwdriver, bottle top opener, nail file and scissors that still cut more precisely to this day than any others I’ve owned. J. A. Henckels, Germany. Now that was a gadget! Grandpa bought it at a specialty shop in New York City that sold such things, well known then, but I don’t remember the name of the place anymore. He took me once. I thought that I had died and gone to heaven. Glass cases gleamed, calling my name, filled with the best German knives, watches, and cameras, When I grew up and became a millionaire, I assumed that I would probably just buy the whole store.

Grandpa died in his late 80’s, all worn out after having an exceptional run, wheeled from his top floor condo by the EMTs, lying flat with his Wall Street journal neatly folded between his hands, covering his chest. He died quietly the next morning. That afternoon I walked around in his condo, feeling him there, with me, everywhere I looked. When I got to his dresser and saw his Henckels pocket knife sitting alone on the polished wood surface, the finality of his life hit me. He would never knowingly leave home without it. I doubt that he overlooked it when he left with the EMTs, he simply accepted the fact that he would never need it again. Almost guiltily, I picked it up and slid it into my pocket, knowing that I was the only human on earth that could give it the home and respect it deserved. That was 36 years ago. That knife is shining on the table next to me as I write this, accompanied by another cool gadget, a magnifying glass that swivels out of a black leather case, the only way for me to read the Henckels logo. I don’t carry that knife though, having evolved my knife lust over the years into a sizable collection of tactical folders, automatics, neck knives, full tang blades, opening assisted blades…all the best custom made and high end manufactured. Those things are beautiful. For daily carry, I use a single blade automatic, a Benchmade. They make good knives for everyday use without breaking the bank like many of the custom collectibles do. Cool gadgets all.

Handguns too. So well machined and finished. Revolvers with cylinders like clock works, bullets so perfectly encased, semi-autos to break down and reassemble blindfolded, Marine boot camp style. I get excited over the precision and fit of such things.

A more recent gadget is this fitbit. It tracks my heart rate and activity, synced with my iPhone that graphs it all, telling me how many calories I burned by walking the dogs or on the elliptical machine in the gym. I don’t “need” any of it, but I do think the watch is cool as hell, especially when I just shake my wrist at night and this thing lights up and tells me what time it is, and then wakes me in the morning with a vibration on my wrist. I can hardly wait for the next version, more features to amaze. Certainly then my life will be complete, for a few minutes anyway. I’ll set the timer on my fitbit and see how long it takes for me to be shamefully awash with renewed lust for another gadget. I’m sure that whatever it is, it will complete me, certainly that will be all I need.

hmh