Douglas Adams wrote in Hitchhiker's Guide that the answer was 42.
I've been playing a game with time lately. When I look at the clock I celebrate when I receive a run or a straight. Like at three thirty-three. It's coming, in a few minutes, as I write this sentence. But I don't know for sure if I'll catch it. I'm doing other things, after all.
I celebrate when it comes to me, and I try not to seek it out or "camp" on the clock until I get a winning combination. It's kind of like playing the slots without the cash involved. The payout is emotional, not financial.
I did some calculating after I had been playing for a few days and realized that there were 21 combinations of numbers that qualified as a jackpot in this game. And then, with the am/pm, that number was doubled.
My calculations have since shown a different solution (I forgot to include ten o'clock's three zeros), but it's still a bit of a fun play with time. This way, when you wake up at four forty-four in the morning, you get a smile on your face, because you've hit a fortuitous time signature.
There was a time where my friend and I tried to catch each occurrence of the 12:34 time on my digital watch. I think we only got three in a row before we abandoned the experiment. Still, there was some exhilaration in the anticipation of seeing it happen. Like the odometer thing.
And by the way, this is my two-hundred twenty-second blog. Yesterday was February 22nd. And I missed 3:33am because I've been blogging and surfing and linking and such. I even missed 3:45.
Maybe I'll start wearing a watch again. Digital, of course. Game doesn't work as well with clock hands. Will this become an obsession? Has it already?
Time will tell.