Fruit Flies Like a Banana

A New Video, "Time is Simply Nature."

There is a footnote in the end credits of my little film which bears explanation: The Time Lady is gone. In Los Angeles, all my life, until last year, anyone could call 853-1212 (or any four suffix numbers!) and she would report the time, in ten second increments of exactly perfect speech pacing.

I called her often. I owe much of my steady rhythm to her reliability.

When I was a little kid, I would call her and say thank you. The friendship had been going on all summer when one quiet day my mom must've overheard my, "thank you!" coming every ten seconds. She found me pony-tailed and chatty on the living room phone.

"Who are you talking to?"

"The Time Lady!"

"What do you mean?"

"It's the Time Lady. Everybody calls but no one ever says thank you. I say thank you, she tells me again!"

"Honey, she can't hear you."

"But she's talking to me. (...Thank you!)"

"She's not really there - it's a recording."

"A wha- - -!????"

I was a little sad about it, but I knew that beyond the microphone and reel to reel tape somewhere in a room - even if only on one day and not every single - a nice lady with a warm helpful voice had cared enough to take the time to tell us all the time, twenty four hours a day, every ten seconds.

In 2007 they let her go. I guess everyone gets the time from cellphones and computers now.

"At the tone the time will be twelve, twenty two. And ten seconds..."

...Weep.