Scumpup is goddamned genius.

Your genius pales in comparison to that of the person who designed a clock so well that it could run for nearly 70 years and then be serviced by an amateur over a few beers.

Let us all salute the genius of the Revere clock designer over a beer.

So, the chimes you hear are imaginary? :wink:

The telechron rotors used in older electric clocks were remarkably durable, but this particular one hasn’t been running that long. For the last 20 or so years, when it was plugged in it made horrible screeching and grinding noises, so the clock wasn’t used. I’m not sure how much earlier than that the problems started. It is a testament to the simplicity of the telechron rotor that some oil and patience could get it working.

It is running silent like your first crush’s farts and chiming like a tiny deformed man lives inside it. I repeat: Scumpup is goddamned genius.

Slacker! In that amount of time it should be at least a 5 beer process. Remember – the liver is evil and must be punished for causing the clock not to work right.

At least that’s my <hic> operating theory.

Picturing you, in braids, clicking your heels and chanting “I’m a goddamn genius” over and over again. It’s a rather odd ending to a rather odd day for me. :smiley:

My grandmother had a clock similar to that. For years it sat on a shelf in her living room and never worked. I volunteered once to see if it was fixable but she said no, it hadn’t worked since the 50’s. After she passed I ended up with the clock. Took the back off and found the electric cord in the clock was jammed into a couple gears. Pulled it out, plugged it in and it worked perfectly. Proudly put the clock on the mantle and relished having something from my grandmother.

A few days later a cat knocked it off the mantle and broke it.

http://www.grayghostweims.com/

I like to think so. Someday, I’ll even be smart enough to embed links with this tablet. (I’m not affiliated with the kennel—just needed an easy Weim link.)

Scumpup, that’s awesome that you got the clock to work. After too much “Antiques Roadshow”, I’m too paranoid to even think about trying to fix an antique.

I really can’t find a cite for this but I’m thinking that the guy’s name was Waldo Beagle