Gift buying has always been a problem for me. You never want to give a gift certificate -- even though most people love them -- because it supposedly indicates a deficiency of thought. But I guarantee you, most people who’ve received well-thought out gifts from me would certainly agree… a gift certificate would have been better.
When I go to the mall in search of a gift, I usually end up walking around like a confused child who’s been separated from his mother. And I see other guys with the same look – stricken by the same uncertainty, nodding at me, as if to reassure me that we’re all in the same boat.
And every time, after hours of searching – and I don’t know if it’s pure exhaustion or the mental collapse that comes from wolfing down five cinnebuns – I always end up with the most ridiculous item imaginable. And always, it seems like a good idea at the time.
My friends mock me to this day because, growing up, my mom would receive the worst possible gifts from me, all the while assuring me how much she loved them and how useful they were. Of course, she was just being nice.
I got her everything – from the salad shooter to the hot topper; the former being a device that hydraulically propelled tomatoes across the kitchen, in hopes of landing them on a salad. The hot topper, you don’t even want to know what that was.
Then there were the Swedish Massage slippers that my mom described to me as “wonderful” and to my dad as “sinking”, as in, “I feel like I’m sinking.”
“Wonderful” and “sinking” don’t really go together, Mom.
I thought the jewelry cleaner would be the ultimate gift. Using ultrasonic rays to clean your rings and watches, it would be both fun to use AND effective. Only problem is, whenever I stop by my parents’ house, the machine is sitting in a box in the garage.
Of course, they assure me they love the gift, but its location in the house seems to betray the fact that they love it about as much as the paint thinner, or the recycling bin (where it’ll probably soon end up…).
For my grandmother, I found the most beautiful waterfall sculpture in the mall. The salesman assured me how great it was, neglecting to inform me that the constant sound of rushing water would not only relax your mind, but your bladder as well. Not the ideal gift for an older grandmother.
Years ago, before my wife and I were married, her birthday came around, and I decided to get creative. To my surprise, after the event, she still agreed to marry me.
Anyway, to mark the occasion, I obtained a large box which I expected to contain a bonsai tree. Not having any experience in botany beyond calling Bethesda Florist whenever I mess something up, I figured I had found the world’s greatest gift.
Unfortunately, the box didn’t contain an actual bonsai tree. Rather, some seeds were enclosed, along with a whole lot of dirt, and a certificate awarding its recipient an already-grown bonsai tree. Talk about a fun gift.
Last year, I mortgaged the house to buy a complicated massage chair replete with a foot and back massager. In the store, I was heard to remark how much use it would get, how someone would be sitting in that thing every day. A year later, it’s been used about as much as my long-term gym membership. Or that pool table we use as an actual table.
Some stores are so unique that you can’t help but buy something from them, even if you’re sure you don’t need what they’re selling. Illuminations, for example, is a store in the mall in which three thousand candles are constantly burning. How could you not want to buy something from there? I always wonder why that place hasn’t ever burned down. With all those scented candles, it would probably be a really delightful-smelling fire.
When you a buy a candle from the place, you imagine all the gushing comments at the dinner table from guests who’ll wonder where you found such enchanting candles. “Isn’t he thoughtful?” they’ll say. Of course, the reality is somewhat different when you discover the dog likes them, too, and as you’re walking around the neighborhood at 3 in the morning with your sick dog, you realize maybe those peach candles weren’t such a great idea…
I always say, this year it’s gift certificates for all. However, guilt will likely set in, and you’ll know it when you see me aimlessly trolling the mall, searching in vain for something somebody will appreciate. So, do me a favor. When you bump into me at the end of a long day of searching, and I’m carrying around some hideous talking statue with a big grin on my face, remind me that I haven’t yet found the Holy Grail of gifts. Thanks. And happy holidays.
