I make it a point to keep my relationships with electronics on acquaintance status. I don't profess love for gadgets or screens. I have appreciated the steady reliability of one electronic friend though, my alarm clock. He came to me on my birthday just before 6th grade at which point it became my responsibility to get up on time. In seventh grade I awoke to River of Dreams and felt like I was walking in my sleep every time he woke me up in High School. He came with me to college, where I often chose the buzzer over the radio, just to make sure I actually got up. He broad casted the news of 9/11 into my bedroom as I got ready for class. He took a sabbatical in storage while I traded him for a traveling young whipper-snapper to study in London. He felt at home on the nightstand of our new queen bed when we were married, and continued faithful in Japan while running on slightly less electricity. He told me it was 2am or 3 or 4 when I up feeding and changing babies crying babies. But he finally succumbed to the hard hard floor of our current apartment when an offspring of his master tossed him carelessly off the bed. The comforting green glow is no more. "Morning" cannot bring him back. He will be missed and not easily replaced by red-glowing evil cousins. So long friend and kind servant. Rest in recycling.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Dead Ringer
I make it a point to keep my relationships with electronics on acquaintance status. I don't profess love for gadgets or screens. I have appreciated the steady reliability of one electronic friend though, my alarm clock. He came to me on my birthday just before 6th grade at which point it became my responsibility to get up on time. In seventh grade I awoke to River of Dreams and felt like I was walking in my sleep every time he woke me up in High School. He came with me to college, where I often chose the buzzer over the radio, just to make sure I actually got up. He broad casted the news of 9/11 into my bedroom as I got ready for class. He took a sabbatical in storage while I traded him for a traveling young whipper-snapper to study in London. He felt at home on the nightstand of our new queen bed when we were married, and continued faithful in Japan while running on slightly less electricity. He told me it was 2am or 3 or 4 when I up feeding and changing babies crying babies. But he finally succumbed to the hard hard floor of our current apartment when an offspring of his master tossed him carelessly off the bed. The comforting green glow is no more. "Morning" cannot bring him back. He will be missed and not easily replaced by red-glowing evil cousins. So long friend and kind servant. Rest in recycling.
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3 comments:
Well if that isn't a sad, sad thing. Did you have a little funeral? I think it would be most appropriate for a friend that has been with you for 15 years! I, for one, would be happy to give the eulogy and thank that electronic mother for getting you out of bed so this mama could finish catching all the ZZZZZZZs!
Long live the green glow!
I, too, have benfitted from the goodness of this alarm clock. I would just like to add my tribute to all of the times that it helped me get out of bed. Or helped you, Queen Bee, who then helped me. I wish you the best of luck finding a suitable replacement. We got for Jonathan with a blue glow and had to take it back it was so bright. We could do finger puppet shows on the bedroom wall it was so bright. Jackson would have LOVED it.
We are still using the same alarm clock that we used 23 years ago. I will be brokenhearted when it dies. Your tenants are great!
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