Again I will seize the opportunity (carpe opportutum?) to ramble about how quickly things change in our society.

Two or three or perhaps four years ago, I rambled about how once ubiquitous leather shoes, proudly worn by men for many moons, had been rather quickly replaced by trendier and more utilitarian sports shoes: Brooks, Puma, Adidas, Nike and many other brand names were seen on sidewalks around the world. Not that long ago.

Sitting downtown on Queen Street on a summery day recently, I was shocked at how few passing people were wearing wrist watches on either of their wrists. Obviously it doesn’t take much to shock me. But my goodness, only 20 or at most 30 years ago, I seem to remember it was just understood most of us would wear a watch. Getting our first portable timepiece was almost a right of passage.

I thought about this very unimportant issue, and asked a few trusted confidantes what they thought about the obvious sea change in how we keep track of the time. Hard-working, ever-cheerful and lovely, Carly had a free moment behind the bar at Butler’s Sports Bar, a.k.a. “the Sporty.”

My unusual question did not phase her. Come to think of it, not much does. She was soon explaining the concept of dominant hands, and remembering how not that long ago, many wrist watches needed to be wound up on a regular basis — carefully, between a thumb and the adjacent forefinger.

I vaguely recall the advent and, seemingly, the miracle of self-winding watches. Somehow, they kept on ticking and tocking, energized by the unconscious movements of our wrists as we carried on with our lives.

Bob Potter, my very wise and learned pal in Pennsylvania, was direct and informed me he had nothing to add to this obscure conversation and rambling. He once appeared on Jeopardy, and knows lots of stuff.

So, it was essentially up to me to ruminate about wrist timepieces. I resigned myself to rambling on my own. A solo and lonely ramble this week.

The relatively sudden demise of a once-accepted part of our lives, almost instantly replaced by handheld devices that mostly pass the time in our pockets.

I watch (if you will pardon the pun) subconsciously and mindlessly as thousands of people pass by each day. More than occasionally, I worry a bit that these important and now necessary devices are going to get lost. Many of them are carelessly put into a pocket, more often a rear pocket than a front pocket.

This was one advantage of wearing wrist watches. They were only rarely misplaced. Since cellphones became the norm, too often we have all felt the momentary panic when we misplace our device (is panic a strong enough word?) and the relief of locating the lost part of our life.

So, I have rambled on about the rapid demise of wristwatches. Much more weighty subjects currently dominate our news cycles.

Would anyone have thought our lives could be so dominated by one man in Washington, D.C.? An attempt to change the colour of the bottom of the Lincoln Memorial reflecting pool on the mall has become a cause célèbre.

Algae, peeling paint, charges of vandalism. Hopefully the job will be completed before the upcoming huge 250th.

And how few of us had even heard of the Strait of Hormuz mere months ago? Has our world gone bonkers? How can we possibly keep abreast as the news cycles march by?

One local suggestion to wrap up this Rambling that has featured timepieces: Take some time and visit the St. Mark’s Anglican Church Graveyard. Near the northwest corner of the historic church, close to the large plot that commemorates the tragedy of the Foam, is a large sundial. Yesterday, at about 11 a.m., the shadow indicated the exact time it was.

Go on a sunny day, because as the inscription says, approximately, “I only tell the time when the sun is shining.”

Be curious. And, be kind.