Before digital clocks, there was Pennwood.

As a senior in high school (Cheshire Academy, 1968) I had one of these on my desk, and although I was not one of the popular crowd, I frequently had my housemates in my room just watching it go. Powered by an electric motor, the individual rotors would slowly click over at the appropriate moments, just like an odometer.

Then, as time moved on, it was discarded. Fool! Cretin! Blistering simpleton! I wish someone had told me things like this would be valuable.

But, thanks to eBay, I was able to find a replacement. Not exactly the same model, but close enough to feel as though I had an old friend back.

This one even has a light, and I’m assuming one can put a picture of a loved one in the appropriate place, which I’ve never gotten around to doing.

But I love it. It’s phenomenally accurate. There’s something about old timepieces that just floats my boat.

The Old Wolf has spoken.