Clock-alert

The onliest reason I write this up at all, is because I know it will send the almighty Bluster-King deep into orbit.
In fact, I noticed the so-called “discrepancy” almost three weeks ago, and since I didn’t really care, I only got around to mentioning it now.
My OS-X clock is about five seconds behind the vaunted atomical-clock in Boulder, Col.
My old 9.2 had a number of clock-options, one of which was to get its time over the dreaded Internet from the Nist-site. (time-b.nist.gov)
This is where the dreaded atomical-clock is; the source of time on cellphones, which comes from satellites.
So I could make the time on my ‘pyooter agree with the official time on the dreaded atomical-clock (a computer-guru thing from the mighty Mezz).
I could therefore make my digital-watch agree with my ‘pyooter, and anything else digital (e.g. stove, microwave, VCR) agree with my watch.
So it was possible to make all these gizmos agree with the dreaded atomical-clock, although they would go out of synch.
This here ‘pyooter was slow, the VCR was slow, and the microwave fast.
So every month-or-so, like pumping up the car-tires, I might reset them all.
This might seem obsessive, but they were close enough. What usually prompted a reset was the VCR nearly cutting into the news — so that two months might pass before a reset was done.
The CR-V can be set according the the atomic-clock, as could the so-called soccer-mom minivan (Astro) and the Faithful Hunda.
But the Bucktooth-Bathtub can’t. All you can reset are the hours and minutes. It’s clock has the seconds preset — you can’t zero it.
OS-X get its time over the Internet from Apple. There’s no option to add the nist-site.
So it’s five seconds slow compared to the atomic-clock. Do I care? It’s only five seconds — close enough.
Not the 15 minutes here and 20 minutes there from West Bridgewater.
And even that ain’t as bad as the shadow of the mighty De Land water-tower, where clocks are off that amount, and you’re reprehensible if you don’t know how much they’re slow or fast.

The “almighty Bluster-King” is my macho blowhard brother in Boston.

The “mighty Mezz” is the Canandaigua Daily Messenger newspaper, where I once worked. It had a tech-support guy, Dan Gnagy, known as the “computer-guru.”

The “so-called soccer-mom minivan” was our 1993 Chevrolet Astrovan.

The “Faithful Hunda” was our 1989 Honda Civic AWD station-wagon — by far, the best car we ever owned; 160,000 miles without a hitch, until it got smashed up. “Hunda” because that was how a Transit bus-driver pronounced it.

The “Bucktooth-Bathtub” is our 2005 Toyota Sienna AWD minivan; the van that replaced the Astro. “Bathtub” because it’s white, and feels like sitting in a bathtub. “Bucktooth” because it has what appears to be a bucktooth on its grill.

“West Bridgewater” (near Boston) is where the almighty Bluster-King lives.

“The shadow of the mighty De Land water-tower” is where my wife’s mother lives, a retirement community in De Land, Floridy.

Naturally, the almighty Bluster-King feels the fact I can align all my clocks with the atomical-clock is a reprehensible obsession. I do it only because I can. (Those I can’t are off.)