Christmas Gifts...
For Christmas I got a cold. Not the crippling kind; just enough to keep you in eye-shot of the lotion-laden Kleenex. It's amazing how much mucus the human body can produce. I suppose one could be full of other less than attractive substances. In terms of personal Xmas booty (that means "loot" nor derriere), it was probably the leanest I've seen; which was OK, but that situation just exacerbates my issues of people buying superfluous stuff for gifts. (For the record, Sandra I agreed our gifts to each other would be a new island in the kitchen.)
My mom... love my mom and my mom loves me, but, "Oy!" She bought me a remote car starter. I'm sure there are many a man who would love to receive one, but I looked upon it with such thoughts as, "First of all don't buy me a 'project,' unless I want to undertake said project." To me it was a package full of hours of frustrations that would culminate with me finally calling a REAL car guy. No thanks, amigo. It goes back to Sam's Club to be exchanged for anything that I might actually use.
The thought behind people spending money on me, I love and appreciate. The reality of remote starters and "uncle gifts" (Uncle gifts are those things like: ties no self-respecting adult would wear, cartoonish boxers, socks, or any of the myriad of boxed gifts piled on tables close to the checkouts at Penney's, Target and K-Mart.) is somewhat hard for me to swallow. Here's what I mean: Imagine across the United States, how many "uncle" or "aunt" gifts are purchased in the weeks or hours before Xmas. Personally, I don't want to think about how many millions or billions of dollars that is. Now, I could take the high road here with statements like: "If we could send that money to Ethiopia or Afghanistan" But I'm slightly more self-indulgent. Hey, how 'bout a simple gift certificate, eh? And people say, "Oh, but how exciting is it to open up a gift certificate?" The answer: "It's much more exciting than opening up a remote car starter." And then some say, "It's the thought that counts." What thought is that? The thought that someone didn't think enough to get in the vicinity of a gift that might have use in your life?
When I was a kid in elementary school a "gift exchange" was what our class had at the highly anticipated Christmas Party the day before Xmas break. Now days a "gift exchange" is either the art of re-gifting, considering if there's anyone in your relational world who would appreciate it, or standing in the "returns" line after the holidays.
So after all this cynicism, do I have a picture of Xmas gift-giving that is at all warm and fuzzy? Indeed. How about improving on the idea of "drawing names" that is becoming more common. But what if instead of thinking, "What should I get for Uncle Bert?" What if we did our homework to see what makes Uncle Bert tick. What if we called Aunt Edna and found out what her husband really likes. Many moons ago in a prior life, I bought my father-in-law a pair of "Grips" brand work gloves for Xmas. Now, I personally don't think that sounds too groovy and I wouldn't have chosen that gift in a million years. But someone in his family clued me in that he really likes that brand and can always use a fresh pair. He's not a guy who smiles very much in life. But he smiled when he opened them.
The gift is not in the amount of money spent or in the objectionable opinion of what a "good" gift is. The gift is in the knowing. In thirty-eight years, I haven't observed that life has ever slowed. But from the time I was old enough to look forward to school gift exchanges up to now, the gifts that have made warm little depressions on my heart have been the ones that someone took the time to know; to know what kind of thoughts and desires were in my weird curly head. A good gift says, "I slowed down enough to know who you are today."
