Every afternoon, for one minute, every single time zone celebrates Sherlock Holmes by displaying his street address on their digital clocks.

This started, one would presume, in 1956, with the invention of the digital clock. Of course, I’m taking that fact from Wikipedia, which might mean less to some, but wait . . . I’m also going to cite William S. Baring-Gould’s statement that Sherlock Holmes died on January 6, 1957. And thus, by combining those two less-than-concrete facts, I am going to go so far as to claim that said digital clocks started displaying 2:21 for a whole minute in early 1957 in honor of the late Mr. Sherlock Holmes.

Not going for it? Ah, well. These web pages don’t fill themselves, you know. But I am intrigued by that single minute each day (and the rarely seen night counterpart), as I seem to be looking at digital clocks at 2:21 each day with increasing frequency. I’m just going through the normal routine, look up at the clock, and “Elementary, my dear Watson!” it’s the Sherlock Holmes minute!

It’s a happy surprise, a nice little nod of appreciation from the universe, and a time which turns any clock into a Sherlockian artifact.  It’s also a wonderful example of the way the brain turns normal life into magic. I mean, is it mere coincidence that I always look at the clock when it’s 2:21? Has to be that I’m just a born Sherlockian with the Holmes mojo going full strength, right?

Or it could be that I just never remember all the dull old 3:42s, 11:08s, etc. of every other clock-watching moment. They aren’t special minutes, so why bother to give them a second thought? But 2:21! There is the minute of significance! A memorable minute that occurs every day.

I’ve got a theory about the infectious nature of the 2:21 minute. It’s like one of those songs you get stuck in your head. You tell someone else about it, and they wind up getting the same song stuck in their head. (And all the more fun when it leaves your head at that moment.) So now we’re going to see if you wind up seeming to have more 2:21 minutes than any other.

And maybe it will get out of mine . . .

Your humble correspondent,

Brad Keefauver