It was the summer of '80, I was seven years old, and I was drooling over the watch counter at the local Bradlee's (anyone remember that store?) like I always did when my grandparents brought me and my sister to the mall. Even at that tender age I had standards -- only Casios caught my eye. No Timex. No Armitron. Just Casio. There were watches with calculators, stopwatches, musical alarms... You name it, Casio made it. The only problem was that I was seven, didn't get an allowance, and I was miles away from my birthday or Christmas. So drool I did, and little more.
Until that fateful day.
My grandfather, noticing the beeline I always made for the watch counter, did something that I never though would happen in a million years: He asked me which one I wanted. I could hardly believe what I was hearing. My mind raced. I really, really wanted the cool calculator jammie with all the buttons, but I'd gladly settle for the stopwatch with the two big, round buttons on the front. However, I realized that these pieces were far too extravagant to ask my grandfather to purchase with his limited funds, so I focused my attention on what appeared to the the cheapest of the lot. Yup, the F-7. It didn't have a stopwatch. Didn't have an alarm. No games. Nothing, save for a microlight that was activated by the sole button visible (no EL here, but rather, a really, really tiny light). When I pointed to it, my grandfather asked if I was sure that that was the one I wanted. In retrospect, it's pretty clear that he was expecting me to select something a bit more grand, but I stuck to my guns. And you know what? I loved that watch. For the next three years I wore the hell out of it. Think about everything that a young boy could do to a watch, and I guarantee I did it. Swimming (it's not even rated water-resistant), Bionic Man impressions (done poorly), fights with my sister (we're twins, and she's tough as nails)... It never flinched. At one point my mother sent it back to Casio for a new crystal (it was so scratched that you could barely read the display) and a fresh battery, but otherwise it soldiered on with nary a complaint.
So, what happened to it? Honestly, I wish I knew. As I grew older and finally got an allowance I started saving up for other, more complicated Casios. I had 'em all: melody alarms, touch-sensitive calculators, games, pulse meters, thermometers, and finally, G-Shocks. Lord, if I had kept some of those G's, they'd be worth a pretty penny today, but I digress... I guess the F-7 just got lost in the shuffle and was finally thrown out.
So, fast forward to now, and I'm bored at work and decide to type "casio vintage digital watch F-7" into google, just like I have a million times before. In the past I'd never even get a hit, let alone a link to an eBay listing. Well, not this time. So, I bid on it, and five days later it was mine. Or rather, my son's. That's right, I gave it to my son, Paul, and he now refuses to take it off. He's only three, so if you ask him what time it is, he'll tell you that its four o'clock -- regardless of what time it actually is. If you press him, he'll read the numbers off the face, but they don't mean a helluva lot to him. He does love the backlight, though. He's also very keen on letting folks know that this was "daddy's first watch". Good boy.
Anyway, here's a shot of the ugly lump of plastic that started me on the road to WISdom:
(Looks pretty good for a 30 year old watch)
And here's Paul with his "new" watch:
(Yes, he's wearing a pull-up -- he got a bit "excited" at the zoo yesterday and forgot that he had to pee. And no, we didn't have an extra pair of pants)
I still can't believe it's here.
Regards,
Adam
The little guy looks mighty proud of himself, that could be a rolex and he wouldnt be any happier, to be young again! 
