Blimey! Between the wristwatch or pocket watch, the hour of loneliness and the grave: the struggle of Ary Fontoura
Blimey! You know that moment when you stop and think: where did the time go? This expression from Minas Gerais, which fits so many moments of surprise or reflection, has never felt more apt than now. The topic of the moment is veteran actor Ary Fontoura, who, at 93, has ended up in court. But don't think it's just another celebrity squabble over fame. This is serious – it involves an unpaid rent debt of over R$ 160,000 and a tenant who refuses to leave his property. And that's where the conversation about the wristwatch or pocket watch, the hour that passes, and the so-called loneliness comes in.
Look, I've seen it all in my time, but a 93-year-old man having to go to court to get his own flat back in less than a month is a bit much, isn't it? Here's the story: the actor rented out a property, the woman stopped paying, the debt mounted up, and after a lot of patience, he filed for eviction. But what gets me isn't just the money. It's what comes with it. At 93, every hour carries a different weight. Every day is a victory. And having to spend energy on a legal battle, asking for what's rightfully yours... blimey, that's not for everyone.
The tick-tock that never returns: wristwatch or pocket watch?
Have you ever stopped to think about what marks time? Some prefer the wristwatch or pocket watch. The wristwatch stays there, strapped to your vein, reminding you every second that life is passing by. The pocket watch has an old-fashioned charm, a sense of respect. You have to take it out, open it, look at it calmly. It's almost a ritual. I reckon Ary Fontoura, at this stage of life, is more of a pocket-watch man. Because he's lived too long to be chasing after hands.
And this legal story reminded me of an old watchmaker I met in Ouro Preto. The man spent his days fixing stopped machines. He'd say: "Son, time only breaks if we let it. But you can always wind it up again." Blimey, is Ary trying to wind up his own life? Because taking legal action at 93, demanding what's yours, isn't stubbornness. It's about not accepting that the hour for being treated with respect has already passed.
The loneliness that comes before the grave
Be honest: how many of us truly remember the elderly? Not just on Grandparents' Day. But day to day. Ary has family, a name, a brilliant career. But there, in that lawsuit, what you see is an elderly man having to fight alone for a roof that's already his. This lays bare an ugly truth: the loneliness that hits long before we even think about the grave.
- The grave is the full stop. Loneliness is the silence that comes much earlier.
- The watchmaker might be able to fix the hand, but he can't give back the lost time.
- And the wristwatch or pocket watch, however handsome, will never mark the hour of the affection that wasn't given.
Blimey, it's not all doom and gloom, though. There's a lesson here. Ary isn't sitting idly by. He went after it, filed the case, and the court has already issued an injunction for him to get the property back in less than a month. That's an example. Because we learn that, as long as the hand hasn't stopped, there's always time to make your voice heard. The watchmaker of life is ourselves.
The hour to wind up your own destiny
So, next time you look at your wrist or pat your pocket for your watch, remember: time is yours. The hour to act is now. If Ary Fontoura, at 93, has the energy to fight for a property, who are you to put off till tomorrow what needs sorting today? Blimey, life's too short to waste time on a deadbeat tenant. And too long to settle for crumbs.
May this case serve as an alarm clock. The grave might be at the end of the line, but the path there is yours. And only you can decide whether to walk it with firm steps or dragging a chain. As for me, between you and me, I've already put my pocket watch in my waistcoat pocket. Time to live, blimey. Time to live.