So I was cleaning out my junk drawer last Tuesday, right? Found my grandad’s old Seiko tank watch buried under a pile of dead AA batteries and expired coupons. Thing looked like it survived a war – scratches everywhere, crystal fogged up, strap crumbling like stale bread. Got me thinking: should I fix this fossil or just buy the shiny new reissue version everyone’s hyping?
The Dirt on the Vintage Piece
First thing I did was haul both watches to my buddy Tony’s repair shop. He popped open the vintage one and just whistled. “Oh boy” he says, “this ain’t just dirty, it’s missing half its guts.” Here’s the ugly list:
- Rusty springs poking out like cactus needles
- Original movement parts discontinued since Reagan was president
- Crystal replacement cost more than my phone bill
- 2-week wait just for diagnosis
Meanwhile the reissue version? Tony slaps that thing on his machine and goes “yep, ticking like a metronome on espresso.”
The Money Pit Reality
Started pricing repairs online like an idiot. Custom hands? $45. NOS dial? $80 if you can find one. By time I added strap replacements and movement service, this “free” grandad watch would’ve cost me over $400 easy. And still looked like it fell down a mountain.
Meanwhile the Seiko store down the road had the reissue sitting pretty under glass for $350 brand spanking new. Sapphire crystal, modern water resistance, actual warranty. Felt like bringing a slingshot to a gunfight.
My Dumb Decision (And Regret)
So what did I do? Chased the vintage “charm” like a total donkey. Dropped $200 upfront for movement repairs. Big mistake. Got a call two weeks later: “Yeahhh your mainspring’s toast and the replacement part’s backordered from Japan… maybe 4 months?” Meanwhile my wrist felt naked and stupid.
Walked past the mall last Friday and the reissue was just… there. Glowing. Clean. Ready. Slapped down my credit card faster than a toddler grabbing candy. Wore it home feeling equal parts thrilled and like the world’s biggest sucker.
Now the vintage paperweight’s collecting dust in my drawer again. Moral of the story? Unless you enjoy burning cash and waiting for mail from Tokyo, just buy the damn reissue. Learned that lesson the hard way while bothering my wife while she feeds our birds.