This is for everything that didn't fit into any other category for whatever reason.
Jefferson Golden Hour clock (electric)
This is a Jefferson Golden Hour clock. The hands are mounted on glass, and the glass rotates via a motor in the base. If the glass is clean, it appears as if the hands are suspended in mid-air. It's a very clever design and striking in its styling. It's somewhat valuable, particularly if it's working. Unfortunately these things are finicky and they often do not.
It's an electric clock but I didn't feel right lumping it with my Telechrons. It's another frustating clock because it just does not want to keep running. I'm not sure if it's just got a short life or it simply doesn't like my house, but the Old Man worked on it three times and I can't keep it going more than a couple months.
This is not the best photo I've ever taken, but it's the best that I can do now. The reflection on the glass above the minute hand isn't normally visible, but the camera flash picks up a lot of things that aren't normally visible in softer, ambient light.
This is a Victor electric clock, and you now know nearly as much about it as I do. I bought it because I saw that little hole in the dial underneath the 12, and thought it was a Telechron, and that I might be able to rob the motor out of it to fix my ailing Revere. No such luck—different motor.
This appears to be a very early electric clock, probably from the early 30s, as it's a spin-starter. Most electric clocks start automatically when they're plugged in. If the power goes out, they stop; if the power turns back on, they start up again. That's why many Telechrons have that little red flag and window that tells you the clock was stopped for awhile, even if it's running now.
Spin starters need to be started after they're plugged in. The little hole in the face actually shows a little disc that's painted alternately black and gray, so you can see it flash as the clock runs. If it stops flashing, the clock is stopped.
So to start it you plug it in, and in the back there's a knob sticking out with instructions "turn slowly" and an arrow. You give the knob a turn or three and the clock will start up—the disc will spin. Then you set the time and you're off.
Mine runs but only for a minute or two. It seems to go and then I see the hand move and then it stops, so I assume something's binding. Some time I'll open it up and see if I can determine what's doing it.
If you want to see it partially disassembled, see my blog.
Hermle Skeleton Clock
It's got a simple strike: once on the hour and that's it. Since the bell isn't muffled by a wooden cabinet, it's got a very clear, pure tone.
Nice clock; keeps good time. My father found it at a flea market or shop somewhere for almost nothing, but I've seen the bare movement for sale and I think it's expensive. The dome is too tall, but there's no way I'm going to try to cut it down. Some day I'll measure it and add it to my notebook of things to look for, and if I ever find a crappy battery-powered anniversary clock with the right (or at least closer to being right) sized dome, I'll buy it and use it.
Cuckoo Clock (unknown make)
I really like cuckoo clocks and have since I was a little kid. The problem is that most of them, like this one, have a 30-hour movement. Watches and alarm clocks with 30-hour movements work because it's fairly easy to get in the habit of winding them every day. I can't get into the habit of winding other 30-hour clocks, for some reason. I've had a few and it seems like they're always stopped because I forgot to wind them. My father has a couple of cuckoos with 8-day movements, and they always run.
This one is a big, impressive clock. If it had an 8-day movement, it would be perfect. Besides the strike, it's got two different chimes, one for the hour and another for the half, as the little dancers twirl around.