Sunday's drive up your blog… with Ramblin' Rooster

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Gift Giving

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One of the greatest inventions of all time is the gift. Who doesn’t like a gift? Well, at least before opening it. After that, disappointment can set in faster than gangrene on a broken leg, lost deep inside the jungle.


What makes gifts so wonderful? Is it the materialism? Is it the mystery? Is it the unveiling, as if you’ve solved a riddle? Who knows who cares? Gifts are just awesome!


I like to gift gifts, but I hate being made to feel like I have to give a gift. All these holidays and guilt trips can really ruin the spirit. In some ways I think it has made me into a bad gift giver. The holiday never falls on a good day in my personal life. It’s always on some horrible day when I have to work late and go to a kid’s soccer game. Plus I always feel rushed because I’m not actually being motivated by inspiration, but rather fighting the clock. Buying you an oven mitt at 10:30 PM on Christmas Eve from the drug store on the corner doesn’t make you happy. Well, guess what? It doesn’t make me happy either. I didn’t want to buy the stupid oven mitt, but I had run out of time and I didn’t get to reach into my heart for the perfect gift that would bring tears to your eyes.


“But Ramblin’ Rooster, all these holidays fall on the same day each year. Why can’t you plan better or become better organized?” Shut up…


I want to give gifts when I want to give them. April 14th, October 2nd, and January 29th all seem to be as good of days as any other. Why can’t I give you you’re oven mitt on one of those days?


I enjoy wrapping gifts. It’s fun to me because I do a really horrible job. I like to use newspaper, brown paper bags and miscellaneous other unsuitable/traditional materials. I’m a huge fan of the “tiny gift – big box” joke too or the ridiculous layers of paper that makes the person almost want to give up trying to open it. I also like to give crappy gifts, like oven mitts and used string.


When I was a child I grabbed an empty tissue box and walked around my house filling it with pencils. Some were unsharpened while others were nearing the end of their life cycle. I wrapped that box up with paper and put it under the tree for my father. Come Christmas morning, well I ‘m sure I don’t have to tell you just how happy he was.


I wonder if that’s why we haven’t talked in 25 years.


Egg On!

Ramblin Rooster


Written by Ramblin' Rooster

January 21, 2009 at 5:06 am

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