Writing Boots

There’s an old expression, a way to express that someone has a realistic understanding of things: “He knows what time it is.”

Actually, when that expression was popular, what time it was, was a little bit up for grabs.

There weren’t cell phones syncopated with God’s Nuclear Timer. Banks had digital clocks that we trusted were right. But otherwise, you asked whoever you were with, “What time do you have?”

Not, “What time is it?”

“What time do you have?”

And Sheila would look at her watch and say, “I have 11:25.”

That didn’t mean the exact Gross Meridian Time was 11:25. That meant Sheila’s watch said 11:25. When was the last time Sheila wound her watch, or put a battery in it? Sheila didn’t remember. You asked Sheila what time she had and through your judgment of Sheila’s general reliability habitual connection to reality, you assumed she was within a few minutes.

And Sheila assumed that since you asked, you trusted her time was close, and you appreciated her report.

And only a total prick would ask, “What time do you have?” and then look at his own watch and tell her she’s wrong, that it’s actually 11:27.

We should treat others’ opinions the same way.

Our own, too: Even if we think we know what time it is.