For some reason, one of my coworkers and I today got into a discussion about gifts. Specifically, gifts that you give or receive that are not particularly well-suited. The kind that either are "re-gifted" or exchanged. And it made me think of the Christmas of '96.
Prior to the holiday, my dad and I were at the mall, shopping. This was probably when I was home for Thanksgiving. We'd gone into a store that, I think, was only there for that one shopping season. It sold all sorts of imports, mostly Asian, and mostly tacky.
On every wall in the store, in a line stretching the whole way around, above the door level, were clocks. Not just any old clocks, though. They were all of the same style. (And I use that word in the broadest sense.) The faces of these clocks were black velvet, with pearlescent dots for the numbers. Around the edges and gathered at the bottom of the face were fake flowers. On the second hands were... believe it or not... dried moths or butterflies. Real ones, it sure looked like.
As if that wasn't bad enough, framing the clock itself were designs in molded plastic. Like rampant griffins or some such thing. And of course, they were all shiny gold painted.
As you might imagine, I gaped at these hideous monstrosities as we were in the store. And I might have said something very vague to my father, along the lines of, "Look at those clocks!"
You can see where this is going.
Thinking my reaction was somehow appreciative, for Christmas, he bought me one.
I opened the box and sat there with it in my lap, staring in shock. I know I hesitated before saying anything. Largely because I had no idea
what to say. Ultimately, I croaked out, "Oh! I've seen these!"
Never being the type to return items, generally, and not hating anyone enough to "re-gift" it to them, I dutifully hung it on one of the walls in the townhouse I shared with
masivemaple and others.
Oddly enough, they never held it against me.
And hey... For more than ten years, now, I've been able to tell this story! Thanks, Dad!
christmas
