One of them in particular – an older brother of hers – had a senior posting to the UN, and one summer we drove up to New York in Dad's Ford Falcon to hit the museums, catch a piano recital at Carnegie Hall, http://www.watchesuuk.co and have Uncle Diplomat take us on an informal walking tour of the General Assembly Building.
For a young kid used to a semi-rural life, it was pretty awe-inducing (for all that my folks tried to impress on us that we should consider ourselves honorary New Yorkers, and therefore cosmopolitan sophisticates, we still felt like rubes when we visited the Big Apple) but one thing that stayed with me from the trip was unexpected.
Then in graduate school, I got interested in watches again, and in talking to people online about watches, and meeting up with other watch nuts. Like a lot of us, I didn't want to have anything to do with Rolex, at first; if you are a graduate student who is trying to radiate an air of being in possession of champagne tastes, while surreptitiously living on a Coca-Cola budget, the last thing you want is a watch you consider exclusively the domain of especially successful used-car salesmen and other clueless nouveau riches arrivistes.
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This was a Thunderbird, with a pink gold bezel, and it did two things. First, it made my jaw drop, in a way I'd forgotten Rolex could make anyone's jaw drop. Second, it reminded me of my uncle's long-forgotten Day-Date.
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