The Tetra Suite: Enthusiasm Uncurbed

1,005 words
Time of writing: Monday, September 21^st, 2026

All along this year, on days like this, there is always a lingering sense of guilt for feeling this good. Not too long before this day, neighbours only a few hours’ drive north were fleeing wildfires, leaving behind all of their worldly possessions to be reduced to ash, for all of us to breathe. Not too long after, thousands would perish; thousands more would disappear in Nepal due to a complex landslide that was a direct result of global warming, resulting in the degradation of bedrock relying on interweaving glacial structural components.

However, on this day, in Canada’s largest and busiest city, it was perfect. The noise of concerns about the suffering of others and the ever-growing existential threats, and the noise from abroad and up close, could not penetrate the day’s beauty.

It seemed the only clouds in the sky were there to shield your eyes whenever you happened to glance upward. The temperature allowed for short and long sleeves, with the promise of a light coat in the evening, even though summer was far from over.

The elevated mood of everyone within the city’s core translated indoors, as thousands of people headed into the giant multi-building convention centre for the annual Fan Expo. Costumes were greeted with glee and unsolicited applause and praise, and my friend and I marvelled at how, in 2026, these people were allowed to feel safe being themselves.

“To think that when we grew up, if you were truly yourself like this, you’d get bullied and punched in the stomach,” I said.

“Yeah… the eighties,” said my friend as we took a break from one of the many aisles of vendors.

The next couple of hours went by as we smiled at overly rehearsed conversations blared aloud by other attendees who’d obviously been looking forward to this day for quite a while. As an extrovert, I revelled in speaking to nearly everyone we passed, while my friend hooked her fingers into my bag so she wouldn’t get lost in the crowd, as my larger frame naturally cleared space wherever we went.

As we navigated the suddenly denser crowds in the artist’s alley, I could feel my friend’s grip get tighter.

“How are you feeling?” I asked as we cleared another crowded aisle.

“I need to sit,” she said, looking for a suitable resting place.

We had found a great resting place nearly an hour earlier. There we sat along a wall on the floor, away from the crowd, both of us either catching up on work or watching people pass us by in their most eccentric form. We did not have that option now. We were too deep into the convention.

Sensing how tired she was, I once again created space and quickly found a ledge where we could sit and rest. There, it quickly dawned on me that hundreds of people were as exhausted as my friend. I needed the reminder that not everyone else is used to crowds, being on their feet for hours on end, and trains every day for endurance sports.

As we sat, my friend’s spine nearly collapsed with exhaustion. She couldn’t find a comfortable resting position, for as I would soon find out, multiple knots along her back, shoulders, and neck were conspiring against her. Every position attempted would protest somehow. On top of all this, she was feeling pressure from outside the convention centre, from friends vying for her time, as they were also somewhere within the city’s core.

I looked down at my NOMOS Tetra and decided there was no rush to go anywhere or get anything done, except one thing: to make sure my friend was as comfortable as possible. Thus, I deployed decades of experience in supporting her spine, neck and back, removing all traces of gravity on her body.

The minute hand on the Tetra helped me rotate pressure points so she wouldn’t be sore the next day. The seconds hand was used in exacting detail as I controlled her breathing so she would not tense up at any point. The hour hand pushed back the pressure from friends outside the convention centre as we entered the second hour of slowly alleviating her knots, negating gravity’s effects as I held her up in a seated position.

As the second hour passed, she opened her softened eyes, and we both had the energy to finish seeing the rest of the show and then make our way out of the overpopulated convention centre. As we made our way through the crowds, my Tetra was constantly referenced as I gave our friends outside updates on our progress and our possible time of seeing them.

In over a year of owning the NOMOS Tetra, I wore the watch during incidents where people underperformed, simply didn’t do their jobs, or deliberately obstructed progress. Until today, I always looked down at the Tetra with dread. Watches have a way of taking on the atmosphere of the environments that they frequent. My Seamaster bears the weight of hundreds of dives and countless celebrations, while also carrying the presence of the loved ones I lost while wearing it. My X-33 carries the utter persistence shown while wearing it, making what would seem like unbearable burdens just another day. My Orion 1989, also by NOMOS, had come to stand for getting as much good accomplished while going unnoticed.

The NOMOS Tetra had become another thing that I could look down upon and see strength, community, and the fact that if one always leads with the mindset of supporting others, we all win as a group. 2026 can easily be summed up as a year when it became springtime for despots and the selfish, who now, more than ever, lean into whatever they can leverage to take advantage of everyone they come in contact with. Over the following weeks, I came to wear the Tetra more often, and as opportunities to support friends and strangers arose, so did my reliance on and appreciation for this beautiful square watch.