As I write this column, many young people and their families are
participating in graduation events, the wedding season is upon us,
and college and other reunions are commencing, including my 45th
college reunion. Even fictional folks are having reunions: Garry
Trudeau has assembled his "Doonesbury" characters for their
reunion. I am looking forward to my real one.
Several weeks ago I was honored to play piano at the wedding of
the daughter of friends, a young woman who played youth soccer for
me 20 years ago. The wedding and reception were at MIT, where the
bride works. As a thank you, the bride and groom gave me a too
generous but very thoughtful gift certificate. When I received this
gift certificate, I happened to be thinking about my upcoming
reunion. I also was in the process of deciding whether to have a
particular watch of mine repaired, a diving watch I have no
objective need for, being one of several watches I own because of a
fondness for gadgets generally and watches in particular. However
memory banks work, mine then clicked to a long-time friend who died
a few years ago.
He was a college classmate, fraternity brother and sports
teammate. He was a first-rate athlete (an all-state quarterback),
first-rate intellect and a superb storyteller. He became a lawyer
and, after clerking for a federal judge, worked on Wall Street for
a while, thereafter becoming a headhunter. He ultimately landed in
academia at a major law school as an assistant dean. For a variety
of reasons, he decided to extricate himself from everything
to do with the legal profession and moved to the Virgin Islands,
where he became a professional diver and instructor. He returned to
the states, and a few years ago I got a call from another
fraternity brother who reported that our good friend had just been
diagnosed with brain cancer. This was in January and a few months
later he was gone. He was as full of life as anyone I ever have
known and I confess that his death hit me pretty hard.
So, armed with the unexpected gift certificate arising from my
piano gig at MIT, I impulsively acquired a new professional diving
watch, yet another watch for which I have no objective need. While
I have done some scuba diving - years ago - my current water
related activities are confined mainly to showering, swimming in my
pool and occasional snorkeling on vacation, none of which remotely
require a professional diving watch. Wearing the watch, however,
reminds me of my late friend.
My late father-in-law, who had a lengthy, successful career on
Wall Street and was more practical than I, did not covet gadgets
and watches as I do. Many years ago, however, he did acquire a
high-end French watch. After he died, my wife got the watch, which
by then was not working, and we decided to have it
refurbished.
Refurbishing old high-end watches is not for the faint of heart,
and many dollars later we had an old watch that works - sort of. We
gave it to our son, a sort of Wall Street type, who appreciated
getting something significant connected to his grandfather.
We lawyers have considerable concern - some might say obsession -
about time. Perhaps my own fascination with watches is somehow
connected to that. In this season of graduations, weddings and
reunions, I see further connections worth noting, however obvious
they may be. Graduations celebrate the end of time at school and
the corollary beginning of time devoted to other things. Weddings
celebrate the union of a couple, the beginning of a hoped for long
time together. Reunions celebrate time spent together and the
reinforcement and renewal of relationships established during that
time spent together.
The MBA's recent annual dinner in Boston, with more than 1,000
lawyers and others in attendance, had elements of graduations,
weddings and reunions. There was a ceremonial passing of the gavel,
as MBA officers will be changing in a few months. New friendships
and connections were established. Old friendships and connections
were renewed. And there was music by a band from New York City led
by my childhood friend, Dave Chamberlain, with whom I have
maintained regular contact for 55 years but, for a variety of
reasons, had not seen in person for more than 40 years until the
annual dinner.
As a small token of my appreciation for incoming MBA president
Doug Sheff, I gave him my copy of Julian Barbour's book, "The End
of Time." Barbour is a British physicist and philosopher whose
thesis is that time does not exist. Quite apart from my difficulty
in understanding his thesis, my sometimes whimsical nature
compelled me to give the book to Doug, especially because it
allowed me to point out that he will not have time to read
it.
We often do not make the best use of our time; however that
concept may be defined. It is useful, I think, in this season of
graduations, weddings and reunions, to reflect on how we will use
our time going forward. After all, we cannot recapture, other than
by reminiscing, time past. We can and should make the best use of
the time still available to us. And, as I do love irony, I note
that we do not need watches for that.
The two watches I have described are not just timepieces. While
one is new and the other old, both serve as tangible reminders of
important relationships and connections to time past.
I will keep wearing the unneeded diving watch and be reminded of
my friend. When my son wears his grandfather's watch that sort of
keeps time, he will have a reminder of his grandfather and maybe
even his mother and father.
In 1967 the Chambers Brothers released a song called "Time Has
Come Today."
That song resonated with me and many others, including my late
friend. The song ends simply: "Time." Forty-six years later that
song still resonates with me. While of course no one needs a watch
to listen to it, I think I will wear my new diving watch the next
time I do.