A Day in the Life

August 4-10, 2014

Tick tock, a vinyl clock

By Becca Bona

BB has a pool table with red fabric and dark chocolate trim. After raising his kids and putting our needs first for nearly two decades, he finally got a toy of his own. He can often be found in the pool room, late at night, jamming to “My Generation” by The Who, notes blasting from his record player which is never far off.

This purchase has easily become his baby, and simultaneously gave him an excuse to decorate a room in the house, against MB’s better judgment.

At first there was a general quarrel between my parents involving paint, furniture, and aesthetic in general. 

Whenever I visited during these troubled times, I would play, “Hello, Goodbye” by The Beatles, just for fun, but no one thought it was funny but me. Oh, the married life.

Eventually agreeing on slate grey for the color, MB finally let BB free to festoon the walls with his music memorabilia. I thought this was the perfect timing for a vinyl clock as a gift to accompany his newfound man-cave, so I made him one.

It’s pretty easy to make a clock out of almost anything if you have a motor, some hands, and a battery or two. I made the hole in the center of the warped Stones “Black and Blue” album a tiny bit bigger with a wood-burning tool (which I would not recommend as I’m sure it’s probably toxic and cancerous for you), and just popped in the required parts. 

The record clock is not the first of its kind that I’ve made, and the idea is not original. Just turn to Google if you have no clue what I’m talking about. Two years ago I was determined to open a shop in which, eccentric clock-maker me would custom make designs for my loving patrons. 

I myself have a Steppenwolf album clock hanging in my kitchen, shaped like a teapot. I enjoyed playing with the clock’s shape, for instance, I made MB a Razorback shaped clock from a James Taylor album. I also created a pistol shaped clock for a friend who likes to hunt from a Merle Haggard album. 

Now, vinylphile that I am, I have one rule. When upcycling vinyl, you must be sure to use a record that otherwise wouldn’t play, no ifs, ands, or butts.

And, since dad loves “Black and Blue,” and the version I had was badly warped, everyone came out of the situation happy. I left his as a full circle, thinking it would go best with his album wall. He placed the clock amongst his framed vinyl, breaking up a series including The Rolling Stones, Jimi Hendrix, and The Beatles.

Recently, at an impromptu gathering at my parents house, a small group of pool sharks entered the room, ready for some action. Standing near the record player, I appropriately put on “Psycho Killer” by The Talking Heads.

A newcomer, one of my dad’s friends from his grade school days, was examining the walls and eyeing my dad’s framed vinyl. He must have never seen such a clock before. He kept wiggling the tiny hands, as if he were fighting time itself. 

BB, of course, rushed over to see what the trouble was. Turns out, his friend was sure the clock had musical abilities, and was trying to figure out how to make it play. 

So, dear readers, it seems there is still a clock-maker’s tinkering life ahead of me. Next step: determine how to make the clocks make music. 

I think I’ll test it on my future creation of a foot-shaped clock accompanying “Rubber Soul.”