The Curse of Von Ribbentrop's Nazi Watch
One of our most accomplished scriptwriters was initially thrilled to discover his $200 vintage Longines watch was worth £50,000. The catch? He is Jewish – and a secret swastika inside proved it once belonged to Hitler's right-hand man . . .
Working for a Hollywood studio should carry a warning: Comedy can seriously damage your health. It certainly damaged mine when, in 1985, I was employed as a house writer at Paramount Studios on a new television comedy series.
There wasn't much to laugh about. In true Hollywood tradition I could have hit the bottle, or worse, but I sought solace in shopping. And it was on one summer afternoon as I was wandering along Melrose Avenue, Los Angeles, that my eye was caught by a tray of what Americans call estate watches. Here they are known simply as second-hand, although I prefer 'previously used'.
I was drawn to a small, simple and beautiful Longines Art Deco wristwatch. I was in a buying mood. Could this watch cheer me up? Would it take my mind off having to return to Paramount Studios on Monday morning to spend the week with a group of American comedy writers who were driving me nuts? Who said Hollywood was glamorous?
The watch was $200. I tried it on. It suited me. I left the shop 20 minutes later with the watch on my wrist and a smile on my face. I couldn't stop staring at it although never once did I wonder whom it might have belonged to, or how it came to be in the shop window. What I did wonder was whether it would lift my spirits during what was becoming the loneliest time of my life.
I wore the watch for the rest of my time in Hollywood and long after I escaped and returned to Britain. Friends commented on it: 'They don't make watches like that any more.' Then in 1993, I treated myself to a modern chronograph and put the Longines in a bank deposit box, where it lay for nearly ten years.
In 2002 I started wearing the Longines again. I had forgotten how simple and beautiful it was. But I quickly realised it was losing between eight and ten minutes each day. I decided to take it to a City of London watch repairer.
Had I not done so I would never have discovered the watch's provenance; a discovery that made me look into my soul and ask myself, what kind of person am I?...
Read entire article at Daily Mail (UK)
Working for a Hollywood studio should carry a warning: Comedy can seriously damage your health. It certainly damaged mine when, in 1985, I was employed as a house writer at Paramount Studios on a new television comedy series.
There wasn't much to laugh about. In true Hollywood tradition I could have hit the bottle, or worse, but I sought solace in shopping. And it was on one summer afternoon as I was wandering along Melrose Avenue, Los Angeles, that my eye was caught by a tray of what Americans call estate watches. Here they are known simply as second-hand, although I prefer 'previously used'.
I was drawn to a small, simple and beautiful Longines Art Deco wristwatch. I was in a buying mood. Could this watch cheer me up? Would it take my mind off having to return to Paramount Studios on Monday morning to spend the week with a group of American comedy writers who were driving me nuts? Who said Hollywood was glamorous?
The watch was $200. I tried it on. It suited me. I left the shop 20 minutes later with the watch on my wrist and a smile on my face. I couldn't stop staring at it although never once did I wonder whom it might have belonged to, or how it came to be in the shop window. What I did wonder was whether it would lift my spirits during what was becoming the loneliest time of my life.
I wore the watch for the rest of my time in Hollywood and long after I escaped and returned to Britain. Friends commented on it: 'They don't make watches like that any more.' Then in 1993, I treated myself to a modern chronograph and put the Longines in a bank deposit box, where it lay for nearly ten years.
In 2002 I started wearing the Longines again. I had forgotten how simple and beautiful it was. But I quickly realised it was losing between eight and ten minutes each day. I decided to take it to a City of London watch repairer.
Had I not done so I would never have discovered the watch's provenance; a discovery that made me look into my soul and ask myself, what kind of person am I?...