The Best Gifts I've Ever Received
Though part of me suspects that I am beating this holiday/gift theme to death, I present to you yet one more, slightly inane blog entry. I almost feel like titling this, "English 101" in the corner and adding my social security number.
However, you are welcome to steal these for the upcoming holiday season if they tickle your fancy. With my anti-materialism bent, if this stops you from buying 2005's singing fish, go for it.
1. A ream of paper. Thank you, Dick and Ada. My dad was high school buddies with this guy named Dick and had, at one time, dated his wife Ada while in high school. This is ancient history, nothing weird here, at least nobody has elaborated it to me. My favorite story about Dick was that he and my dad used to get drunk and pee on the floor in the theater and their pee would roll down under the seats. This is something I do not condone nor would I recommend in any form. I just find it weirdly interesting in an odd sort of way. Dick and Ada have apparently become nudists in their golden years, or at least that was the last update I'd heard about them.
Occasionally we would stop at Dick and Ada's house in the Rapids when visiting my grandparents, and for some reason, the original "Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory" was always on TV and somehow, I always ended up the hospital with pneumonia. Anyway, Ada worked at the paper mill and one time she brought me a ream of paper (for no reason, I might add) which was just uber cool to a child who went through "typing paper" like toilet paper and was occasionally forced to use "scrap" (ugh) paper to draw on. A ream of paper, yeah. It was good. She probably stole it from her office.
2. A bracelet of "African" beads. My dad and our neighbor, Keith, went to downtown Milwaukee for something or other (they had a tendency to just disappear on Saturday afternoons and come back with weird dad things like bench grinders. Sometimes they'd take in aluminum cans or make other mysterious "dad" trips.) and my dad came back with these beads strung on copper wire. I have a vague memory of my dad saying they were from Africa. This doesn't mean that my dad and Keith went to Africa that Saturday afternoon - though maybe they did since I was never privy to or paid much attention to what they did - but rather that the vendor said they were from Africa. They were probably made on 35th and Cherry for all I know. These beads have a name which, of course, I can't remember. But I do know what guanxi is. Anyway, the beads are cool. For awhile, I thought I lost them and I was frantically looking for them for about a year, thinking they'd been misplaced. I never really have wore them, but they've always been on my dresser and they remind me of my dad. They've become more of a talisman than anything for me. I always thought it was a nice gesture that he bought them for me.
3. A broach. Well, this actually isn't my gift, but when my great aunt died, my great uncle gave my mom a Limoge broach he'd bought his wife in France after the war ended. I think it was basically just a leftover trinket for him that he really didn't know what to do with, but knowing what he went through in WWII and the fact that he was able to bring this delicate little thing home to her, there' s a lot of sentimental value there. It's not really my style, in fact, it's not my style at all (nor my mom's), but it would be a true honor to wear it. There are certain people that you feel honored to know in your life and Aunt Vi and Uncle Frank are at the top of my list. I bet my mom would let me borrow it if I was "very careful."
4. A "walking balloon," a loaf of really darn good bread and a newspaper subscription. Back before I was a writer, I worked a series of really, really sucky jobs. I had to because I was the "breadwinner," no pun intended. I HATED these jobs. I HATED these jobs more than Al Qaida hates the U.S. I happened to start a job on my birthday - a bad, bad omen - and though the job I applied for was "desktop publisher," somebody rearranged the letters on me to reform "receptionist." So, after spending a miserable eight hours answering the phone - and as you all know, I am a natural font of sunshine on most days - I drove home in a big funk and opened the door to our apartment. There I found the most ridiculous balloon with these accordion-paper legs wandering around our postage-stamp living room, a loaf of my favorite bread from Great Harvest Bread Company and a subscription to the Milwaukee Journal (okay, now that last one is a bit embarrassing to admit and I have since moved on to the Wall Street Journal) but my husband was recognizing my love of reading. I broke down and cried when I saw it because he'd made such an effort to find me things that he knew I would really like.
I could probably think of a few more, but my point is that none of these gifts broke the bank. But all of them really resonated with me. Now, if I could just find someone to buy me some butter, I'd be really happy this year.
However, you are welcome to steal these for the upcoming holiday season if they tickle your fancy. With my anti-materialism bent, if this stops you from buying 2005's singing fish, go for it.
1. A ream of paper. Thank you, Dick and Ada. My dad was high school buddies with this guy named Dick and had, at one time, dated his wife Ada while in high school. This is ancient history, nothing weird here, at least nobody has elaborated it to me. My favorite story about Dick was that he and my dad used to get drunk and pee on the floor in the theater and their pee would roll down under the seats. This is something I do not condone nor would I recommend in any form. I just find it weirdly interesting in an odd sort of way. Dick and Ada have apparently become nudists in their golden years, or at least that was the last update I'd heard about them.
Occasionally we would stop at Dick and Ada's house in the Rapids when visiting my grandparents, and for some reason, the original "Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory" was always on TV and somehow, I always ended up the hospital with pneumonia. Anyway, Ada worked at the paper mill and one time she brought me a ream of paper (for no reason, I might add) which was just uber cool to a child who went through "typing paper" like toilet paper and was occasionally forced to use "scrap" (ugh) paper to draw on. A ream of paper, yeah. It was good. She probably stole it from her office.
2. A bracelet of "African" beads. My dad and our neighbor, Keith, went to downtown Milwaukee for something or other (they had a tendency to just disappear on Saturday afternoons and come back with weird dad things like bench grinders. Sometimes they'd take in aluminum cans or make other mysterious "dad" trips.) and my dad came back with these beads strung on copper wire. I have a vague memory of my dad saying they were from Africa. This doesn't mean that my dad and Keith went to Africa that Saturday afternoon - though maybe they did since I was never privy to or paid much attention to what they did - but rather that the vendor said they were from Africa. They were probably made on 35th and Cherry for all I know. These beads have a name which, of course, I can't remember. But I do know what guanxi is. Anyway, the beads are cool. For awhile, I thought I lost them and I was frantically looking for them for about a year, thinking they'd been misplaced. I never really have wore them, but they've always been on my dresser and they remind me of my dad. They've become more of a talisman than anything for me. I always thought it was a nice gesture that he bought them for me.
3. A broach. Well, this actually isn't my gift, but when my great aunt died, my great uncle gave my mom a Limoge broach he'd bought his wife in France after the war ended. I think it was basically just a leftover trinket for him that he really didn't know what to do with, but knowing what he went through in WWII and the fact that he was able to bring this delicate little thing home to her, there' s a lot of sentimental value there. It's not really my style, in fact, it's not my style at all (nor my mom's), but it would be a true honor to wear it. There are certain people that you feel honored to know in your life and Aunt Vi and Uncle Frank are at the top of my list. I bet my mom would let me borrow it if I was "very careful."
4. A "walking balloon," a loaf of really darn good bread and a newspaper subscription. Back before I was a writer, I worked a series of really, really sucky jobs. I had to because I was the "breadwinner," no pun intended. I HATED these jobs. I HATED these jobs more than Al Qaida hates the U.S. I happened to start a job on my birthday - a bad, bad omen - and though the job I applied for was "desktop publisher," somebody rearranged the letters on me to reform "receptionist." So, after spending a miserable eight hours answering the phone - and as you all know, I am a natural font of sunshine on most days - I drove home in a big funk and opened the door to our apartment. There I found the most ridiculous balloon with these accordion-paper legs wandering around our postage-stamp living room, a loaf of my favorite bread from Great Harvest Bread Company and a subscription to the Milwaukee Journal (okay, now that last one is a bit embarrassing to admit and I have since moved on to the Wall Street Journal) but my husband was recognizing my love of reading. I broke down and cried when I saw it because he'd made such an effort to find me things that he knew I would really like.
I could probably think of a few more, but my point is that none of these gifts broke the bank. But all of them really resonated with me. Now, if I could just find someone to buy me some butter, I'd be really happy this year.
posted by The Arendts at 5:05 PM
1 Comments:
Forget the butter, Pepsi is much better for you!!
Once again, a thought provoking blog from you. Walking balloons are actually known for their healing powers. Did you know that??
How 'bout a blog on condiments?? Nyuck, nyuck!!
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