On our internal work web homepage, there is a little HR section that highlights all the respective holidays and representational events of the month. It's October, so some of the more obvious commemorations are "Breast Cancer Awareness Month" and "Hispanic Heritage Month". As no organization is dare neglected, there are often quite a few listed each month. Eyeballing the list today, I was struck by the following: October is National Clock Month. Huh?

This sounds like the by-product of a bunch of scheming Swiss who didn't feel quite so neutral. Or maybe some lobbyists from Timex. Did our government sanction the celebration of the timepiece with the same gravitas given to honoring Hispanics, breast cancer victims, the mentally ill, the disabled and those other--dare I say--more worthy recipients of commemoration?

How does one celebrate the clock in a fashion that would be respectful to the depth of it's position as one of October's poster children? Do we embrace the grandfather clock in the hall with a heartfelt passion? Do we stroke the face of our wristwatch to reinforce the depth of our reliance and gratitude? Do we send a Hallmark card to Seiko? Is there a nonprofit organization one can donate to in order to fund research to support the advancement of the clock?

Perhaps an even more important question to ask is: do we really even like the clock? Thanks to the clock, our lives are measured out in minutes and seconds. We know where we must be at all hours of the day. We rise each day at the instigation of the numbers of the clock (which is reinforced by clock's evil brother, alarm, which for all we know, could be a celebrant for the month of November). The clock reminds us that we're working more than the standard 40 hours a week that we're supposed to be working. It reminds us that we're late for something or that a deadline is hanging over our heads like a mallet. With its brooding and hollow tick, tick, tick, it reminds us how lonely we really are sometimes and that our lives are ebbing away. You want to celebrate..this?!

A certain relative has one of those gimmicky gift clocks that has a different bird illustration on its face to represent each of the numbers. When the clock strikes twelve, the respective call of the hour's featured bird blares forth to note another hour of time has passed. Every time I visit, the Canadian Goose that sits squarely at 3:00 squawks like he's on his way to slaughter...and what's worse, sometimes it gets stuck and a repetitive honk continues until the battery is removed. No, I have no love for the clock.

I say fuck the clock, but celebrate time. Measure your days with the rising sun, the twilight of the evening and the fanciful way the light moves across the sky throughout the course of a day.