Half a second that sounds like a full second
A mechanical camera that sits on a shelf all winter always tells on you at the slow speeds first. Above 1/60 of a second everything sounds crisp enough. Turn the dial down to 1/4 or 1/2, press the release, and the gear train hesitates with a dry, tired buzz before the second curtain finally snaps shut.
The temptation is to exercise the shutter twenty times at the desk until the escapement warms up and sounds roughly right, then load a roll and pretend the lubricant has healed itself. It never does. The first cool evening outdoors, that half second stretches right back into a full second, and the indoor frames you braced against a doorframe come back two stops overexposed and smeared.
I sent the body in for a proper clean and adjustment at the start of May instead of putting it off another season. It came back yesterday. Listening to the one-second setting tick off cleanly—without the little catch at the end of the run—is a small pleasure, and one less excuse when a night frame turns out blurry.