Best of Breed
I usually contribute to the holiday chaos with a regifting party, where my friends trade odd gifts we’ve received over the year—-a spooky Christmas angel that stutters in Japanese, a pair of panties made with candy necklaces, a Bedazzler kit. But this year, the season snuck up on me and so the best I can do is offer up a column commemorating the truly memorable gift.
At the top of my list: A can of tennis balls. You probably can’t imagine being talked into giving someone a can of tennis balls in the class gift exchange. You’d object. You’d refuse to go to school that day. You’d show up with nothing before you’d hand a girl three Wilson Pros in front of the whole 7th grade. Not me. I fell for the sell-job: “They’re brand new!” “She loves tennis!” “Look how the bow sits so perfectly on top!”
When I asked my husband what gift he’ll always remember, he too found himself back in adolescence, when his cousin from Kentucky gave him Jovan Soap-on-a-rope. This excellent product hung conveniently around the shower knobs and so was never subject to the softening and deterioration that could happen to untethered soap. So handy. And Masculine with a capital M. Here I quote from perfumebay.com: “Jovan Musk. The sexy smell of warm skin. Stroke it on, and it becomes a scent like no one else's. Because it works with your body's natural chemistry. (And later, with hers.) Jovan Musk lasts all day. Since a man like you can make things happen at any hour.”
Then there are the special offerings that make you snap your fingers and wish you’d thought of. I once watched my brother bring my mother to tears on a Christmas morning. It seemed he had been to a bookstore, because my mother loved to read, and not ten feet in the door, he was struck by a certain title, “Home.” “This is perfect for Mom! She sells residential real estate!” My mom smiled at her son as she slid her thumbnail under the invisible scotch tape and opened the paper to show a paperback novel. Oh my God, I thought to myself, it’s fiction. It could be about a mental institution, or an underground bomb shelter cum heroin lab, or a perverted mortgage broker. My mom loved it.
Later that morning, that same brother would give me a pack of Goody barrettes in a folded drugstore bag and maybe a deck of cards. It went on this way for years—-a bag of BRACH’s red hots (“since you love them!”), a Captain & Tenille 45, a pack of lined notebook paper. Life was good.
So this year, when someone hands you a homemade ham and nut pie or a tree garland made of printer cartridges, remind yourself that this gem…this choice doodad…this undervalued treasure will be the only gift you’ll remember in five years. And you and I both know that a good laugh and a story you can tell for the rest of your life beats an italian cashmere crewneck any day.
At the top of my list: A can of tennis balls. You probably can’t imagine being talked into giving someone a can of tennis balls in the class gift exchange. You’d object. You’d refuse to go to school that day. You’d show up with nothing before you’d hand a girl three Wilson Pros in front of the whole 7th grade. Not me. I fell for the sell-job: “They’re brand new!” “She loves tennis!” “Look how the bow sits so perfectly on top!”
When I asked my husband what gift he’ll always remember, he too found himself back in adolescence, when his cousin from Kentucky gave him Jovan Soap-on-a-rope. This excellent product hung conveniently around the shower knobs and so was never subject to the softening and deterioration that could happen to untethered soap. So handy. And Masculine with a capital M. Here I quote from perfumebay.com: “Jovan Musk. The sexy smell of warm skin. Stroke it on, and it becomes a scent like no one else's. Because it works with your body's natural chemistry. (And later, with hers.) Jovan Musk lasts all day. Since a man like you can make things happen at any hour.”
Then there are the special offerings that make you snap your fingers and wish you’d thought of. I once watched my brother bring my mother to tears on a Christmas morning. It seemed he had been to a bookstore, because my mother loved to read, and not ten feet in the door, he was struck by a certain title, “Home.” “This is perfect for Mom! She sells residential real estate!” My mom smiled at her son as she slid her thumbnail under the invisible scotch tape and opened the paper to show a paperback novel. Oh my God, I thought to myself, it’s fiction. It could be about a mental institution, or an underground bomb shelter cum heroin lab, or a perverted mortgage broker. My mom loved it.
Later that morning, that same brother would give me a pack of Goody barrettes in a folded drugstore bag and maybe a deck of cards. It went on this way for years—-a bag of BRACH’s red hots (“since you love them!”), a Captain & Tenille 45, a pack of lined notebook paper. Life was good.
So this year, when someone hands you a homemade ham and nut pie or a tree garland made of printer cartridges, remind yourself that this gem…this choice doodad…this undervalued treasure will be the only gift you’ll remember in five years. And you and I both know that a good laugh and a story you can tell for the rest of your life beats an italian cashmere crewneck any day.
posted by Kelly Corrigan at 7:27 AM
4 Comments:
Hi Kelly, I found your site through a posting to my blog, from your agent. I enjoyed your post on Xmas gifts. My family also has done some fun things at Xmas. We used to give kitchen gadgets and see who could figure out their use first. When my brother was in college (and broke), he shopped at used bookstores and very thoughtfully selected books for each family member (then wrapped them in comics). When in grad school (also broke!) I gave my mom several pairs of colorful socks that I no longer used. She loved them.
The last 2 Christmases I've taken my 2 oldest (now 8 and 6 yrs) to the Dollar Tree and am amazed at how carefully they select something that is absolutely perfect for each recipient.
This Xmas I gave my brother (who said he had enough stuff and didn't need any gifts) a donation in his honor to the American Cancer Society....for breast cancer, something I've survived twice. He loved it, and we both knew the money would later benefit me and my daughters too.
It can be a challenge to come up with useful and thoughtful gifts. Sometimes the simplest things are the best!
Enjoyed your post and look forward to reading more, Katie
My sister and I received a Ten Commandments coloring book one year -- complete with glitter crayons -- from a crazy old aunt. We were ages 13 & 16, respectively. Still one of my favorite gifts, because it provided me with a story I can tell for years to come.
Hi Kelly,
I work for a small independent bookstore in San Jose, Willow Glen Books. I very much enjoyed reading your new book The Middle Place and will no doubt talk it up to all the regulars and bookclub people that come through asking, "what's good?"
Cheers,
Nancy
ps. Good luck in New York. I'll mention the gig to my relatives though they are a bit old and usually just hang locally in Broxville.
Okay, this is too good to pass up. I come from a family of frugals so this topic is right up my alley. My favorite story is the Christmas my oldest sister brought home her new fiance, who was trying hard to make a good impression on our family. As a gag, my brother and I (high schoolers at the time) wrapped up some weird kitchen gadget we found in the junk drawer. When he opened it we held back the smiles as we watched him try to be gracious. He passed with flying colors and now, twenty years later, is one of my favorite brothers in law.
Oh yeah, same brother, different year, we sewed a strip of elastic onto a square of fake black fur and gave it to our dad as a 'versatile hair piece'...it could be used as a toupee or a fake beard! Priceless pictures in the family albums...
Love the book and columns, Kelly!
Judy
justonefoot.blogspot.com
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