As Impressive as it is Useless

Okay. Sorry, but I’m going to brag a little bit.

I’m good at just about everything that I do. If I try something new, and I’m not good at it, I eventually get good at it (if I think it's something worth being good at). Can’t help it. That’s just the way it is.

Problem is, none of the things I do well are things that people in our society tend to… umm… value.

Maybe that’s not true. Some of the things I do really well, such as: Cooking, Parallel Parking, Ping Pong, Arithmetic and Scrabble are skills valued by society. Unfortunately, I am only “good” at said activities. I’m not on some sick savant level that necessitates a Discovery Channel Special, a YouTube clip or, at the very least, a photo or feature in some backwoods, jerkwater newspaper that desperately needs to fill 12 inches for its “About Town” or “Family Leisure” or “Community” page on Sunday.

No. The only skill I possess on such a level is telling time.

Allow me to be extremely frank about this. I have time-telling skillz, as it were. If my homies need to know what time it is, they ask yours truly. If I ever need to know what time it is, I don’t ask anyone. I ask myself. Because, yeah that’s right -- I know what time it is.

I know what you’re thinking. “Wow. You can read a clock. I mock you and deride your supposed time-telling prowess, as I also have said skill.”

Technically, you’d be correct. Yes. I can read a clock. But when a clock is unavailable, when the sun is not in the sky, when clouds obscure the northern constellations swirling around Polaris, I still know what time it is, usually to within three minutes, bitch. Guaranteed. Take it to the bank. If you’re not sure you can take it to the bank, just ask, and I’ll let you know if you’ll be able to get there before 5:00.

Here it is. I feel the passage of time. I hone this skill by looking at clocks whenever I can, and then I feel the passage of time from my last clock viewing to when someone says, “I wonder what time it is.” I can’t explain how I do it. I just do it. Like perfect pitch.

And let me tell you something, if I were living in the age of Camelot, you damn well better believe that King Arthur would have me hanging out in the throne room with a flagon of mead in one hand and a comely lass of virtue-true sitting on my lap. And if King Artie (as I’d call him) wanted me to inform him as to when his two o’clock chiropractic appointment was, I’d be on it. In fact, I’d tell him to go early, because Chiropractors quintuple-book appointments, and then it’s first come, first served, even if you’re the frickin’ lord of the realm. Chiropractors don’t care.

But in this day and age, this skill is just a novelty. Everyone has a watch or a cell phone. So now, whenever someone asks me the time, I tell them. Then they check their cell phone and say, “Wow, you’re right on the money.”

On the money, but not in the money.

What a damn waste…