One day, many years ago, my wife came back from a family gathering with a list. She sat me down at the dining room table, and proceeded to tell me what we were going to get for some of the people whose names were on this list.
“We have to get ‘Bobby’ (not his real name) a KISS album,” she said. Don’t ask me which one. I detested them then, and they’re no better in hindsight.
But I remember being appalled. And insulted. I don’t have a problem if my wife or son comes to me with a special request. But to be told that I have to give this person or that person a particular present? No. way.
This is about as far afield as I can think of when it comes to the spirit of Christmas.
But then again, we’ve been conditioned to think of Christmas as one giant grab. Our parents — mine did, anyway — take us to department stores so we can give our wish list to Santa. We’re raised to believe that the holiday entitles us to new toys, new clothes, records, video games, and other material things. We don’t think about the other side of the coin — the people who would be happy with anything anyone can give them, regardless of what it is.
If I have to give someone a present, I’d just as soon skip the honor.
But there we were. Stuck with hunting down a KISS album for “Bobby.” And while we were out at record stores, I got to thinking. Where do people get off assuming someone has to buy them a present at Christmas time, or any time, really? There is just so much wrong with that assumption.
First, and most obviously, gift-giving is, or should be, entirely motivated by the giver. Not the givee. I buy presents because I like you, and want to share my spirit of the holiday, with you.
Second, a gift should connect people. Since KISS means nothing to me, how can their records possibly connect me with their intended recipient? Better I comb the racks at one of those second-hand record stores and buy an obscure Kinks compilation album and give it to Billy Brotherton because I know he’s a fan. Of course, he may already have it, but that’s OK.
And third, and to me most important, you have to put at least a minute of thought into it. Some of the best gifts I’ve received on Christmas have been little things that don’t amount to a lot monetarily, but that show the giver took the time to at least contemplate what I might like or match them up with my personality.
That’s the whole joy of it. I love putting one over on people. I love coming up with presents to give to people who are important to me, and that, hopefully, throw them off a little bit and genuinely surprise them. I try to do that once a year with someone.
Or, as my son once said when my mother was contemplating a present to me, “he’ll get what he gets, and he’ll like it.”