The early bird gets the worm. The early worm… gets eaten.—Norman Ralph Augustine

Technology has improved a lot since this picture was taken. Early mornings, however, are still the same
Even by London standards, I am up way too early. You see, it’s not enough that we cover all the important fashion shows, I still have to keep up with my standard shooting schedule and this morning that includes doing some long exposure photography downtown. In order to pull off the look required, we need to be standing in the middle of the street by 5:00 AM. In order to be standing in the middle of the street by 5, I had to wake everyone up at 2. Being able to make coffee with my eyes still half shut is a very good thing.
Getting up early isn’t all that difficult for me on most mornings. I rather like London time, sort of. Our British friends tend to get things started around 9:00, which equates to 4:00 in Indianapolis. So, that’s typically the time I’m up and running. But we’re even beating that schedule today. As I type, Kat is doing hair and makeup on a lovely young model who is trying her best to be awake. My composition time is slow as I type a few words then have to reach for more coffee. More coffee. Always, more coffee.
Of course, you won’t be reading this until much later, will you? No, you have better sense than to be getting up this early. You’re almost certainly still lying in bed, totally oblivious to the fact that in order for your world to be ready for you at whatever time you decide to put your feet on the floor, someone else had to get up before you and prepare that Starbucks that you grab every morning, or the muffin that you eat while driving to work. You’re smart, letting someone else do the work like that.
I think of those poor chaps at the BBC who have to prepare the morning report, or the writers for Business Insider who have to not only write, but do research to be able to concatenate the most important news into a list of things I need to know before I start shooting off my big mouth. Of course, this is a Saturday, so there are no such lists. Not quite as many people are up at this unholy hour, which is why it is the perfect time for us to be taking pictures in the middle of the street.
The biggest danger in getting up so damned early is that the brain hasn’t had enough rest and recuperation time. I’m running on all of two hours sleep today. Yesterday, I splurged and had three hours. Some days I’m lucky and get a nap during the afternoon, but that won’t likely happen today as, being Saturday, there are children at home. All day. They don’t stop unless you’re throwing food at them, and even then it seems as though they just barely slow down. How can I be expected to exercise the level of intelligence of which I am capable if my brain is still half asleep?
Speaking of children, they seem to do early better than anyone. They hit the floor running the moment their little eyes pop open, especially on Saturdays when we would dearly like them to sleep a little later than 5:30. I’m convinced that they are able to get up so quickly and easily because their little brains are not yet full of enough information slowing their boot up every morning. They don’t care too much about the Chinese stock exchange, couldn’t care less what the price of oil is, and neither of the slackers are planning on voting, given they’re only 5 and 7. They care a little about the weather since that determines whether they can play outside. They care about what’s for breakfast and whether they can stream some mind-numbing drivel via Netflix. Their little brains boot up in .002 seconds because their operating system isn’t yet weighted down with garbage.
I remember my own father getting up this early, much to my mother’s frustration. He always said he enjoyed the peace and quiet and I can certainly appreciate that. The difference between he and I is that I can get up without disturbing anyone else in the house. Poppa had some difficulty with that quiet thing. Mother accused him of being too much like a bull in a china shop. By the time he finished making coffee, the rest of us had at least stirred.
If we are all very lucky, and it will take no small amount of good fortune, I will be able to share the results of today’s adventures with you. I expect you to feign appreciation if we do. After all, we’ve gone to all the trouble of getting up way too damn early in the morning; too early to be doing hair & makeup, too early to be having intelligent conversation, and too early to be taking pictures.
But here we are, the early birds. Those worms better be tasty.
Time Ticks Too Loudly
A poor life this if, full of care, we have no time to stand and stare.—W. H. Davies
Time is a measure we use to punish ourselves with the reminder that we can never have enough of it
I have a new wrist watch. I’ve not worn one in well over ten years. In fact, I can’t honestly say I remember the last time I wore a wrist watch; the batteries tend to not last too long and I rarely have time to stop by a jeweler to have the battery replaced. Watch bands also seem to be problematic for me. But, this watch was only a dollar, a promotional item actually, so how could I refuse something that cost less than a cup of bad coffee?
Most watches today are smooth, digitally driven timepieces, but this one is old-fashioned gears and springs with a contemporary face. I don’t expect it to last too long. Mostly, I forget it’s on my wrist until the face gets caught on my shirt sleeve. The watch is about as simple a timepiece as one might find.
But early this morning, in the darkness before my alarm went off reminding me there was a fashion show which would ultimately end up being disappointing, I noticed something about my watch which may ultimately be disturbing: it ticks loudly. Tick. Tick. Tick. No tock, mind you, because the tock response to the tick only occurs in devices driven by a pendulum; it is the return of the pendulum that creates the sound. Spring-wound watches just tick, tick, tick, and in the middle of the night this watch was annoyingly loud.
My mind immediately thinks of that chorus from the Steve Miller Band’s Fly Like An Eagle:
Time keeps on slippin’, slippin’, slippin’
Into the future
Time keeps on slippin’, slippin’, slippin’
Into the future
Over and over and over that phrase repeats with all the annoyance of the ticking on my watch. Time. Ticking. Slipping. What am I doing in bed? Why do we have to sleep? I should be up, awake, living.
We were in the car yesterday with the TED Radio Hour playing on NPR, half-listening, half-daydreaming as Keith Chen talked about how our language affects our ability to save money. Specifically, people whose language does not contain the future tense tend to save better than those who do use the future tense. That part is interesting enough, but toward the end of the talk Chen says that not only does the absence of future tense correlate to higher savings, but better health, better eating habits, less likely to smoke, and more likely to practice safe sex. All of this hinging on how our language leads us to understand the future, and in a broader sense, time itself. Extrapolating those findings out to the extreme, we might conclude that how we understand time, the perspective our language gives us on time, may lead us to behaviors that affect just how much time we have. Future tense kills.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Loudly. Far too loudly.
In the quiet of the night, every sound is exaggerated, of course, and so is our reasoning. Acting on thoughts one has at 1:00 in the morning is rarely a good move. A cup of coffee, perhaps some bacon and eggs, a moment to give those thoughts a second examination, might prevent one from doing something they would later regret. The ticking of my watch doesn’t change volume levels between 1:00 AM and 7:00 AM, but my perception of that ticking, and my perspective of time, does change. I’m less disturbed by either once I’m up and active and waiting for the next fashion show. I worry less about running out of time in my life, and more about being on time for the next runway.
Still, I wish I had more time; more time when my brain is active and not feeling sluggish from the morning’s work. Getting up so early often means that by the time my schedule opens up around 1:00 PM, either my brain or my body is exhausted. I want to keep going, to edit more, to write a couple more articles, or perhaps read a bit, but rarely is there enough energy for that to happen and I end up feeling that I’ve wasted time napping. Just imagine what I could have gotten done had I stayed awake!
With each birthday, time ticks a bit louder, reminding me that I have less of it now than I did 12 months ago, and raising the question of how I will use the time I have left. We’ve all heard the platitude about living each day as if it were your last. That doesn’t work, though. What we do today affects tomorrow, and for the greater majority of us there will be a tomorrow. We can’t live as if there are no consequences for our actions. The fact that we might die tomorrow does not excuse our lack of responsibility today.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Time for me to wrap this up. Another fashion show starts soon. If you’ve not been reading the reviews on Pattern, I’m disappointed in you. Those take a lot of my time, and I only have so much of that to give.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Louder and louder.
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