#604 Quirky Gift of Love

I spent a recent weekend driving back and forth to Spokane.
Or is that driving back to and forth from Spokane?
In any event, it was a lovely drive, made more so because I was with a lovely woman.
We went to a wedding and, as my girlfriend put it, it was odd to see it from an adult perspective. I mean, you go at it yourself when you’re young a few times, then your friends do it, and then suddenly it’s your friends’ kids who are doing it.
You look at their faces, so full of hope and stuff, so you skip the wise negative advice and offer best wishes instead. Their whole life is opening in front of them. Why slam the door shut early?
It starts with the wedding gift opening. Which opens the question of small appliance storage issues—like which amount of tiny apartment counter space do you allow which small appliance to occupy?
Then there are the small appliance exchange issues—how many salad shooters is it prudent to keep, how many should you take back? No, you can’t take back that one, Aunt Enid will be hurt.
Or quarrels over other odd gifts: Yes, that hand-crocheted afghan is ugly, but Aunt Myrtle wore her arthritic knuckles to the bulbous bone over it. We have to leave it out in case she visits.
Stuff like that. Inconsequential in the larger scheme of life, but the kind of things that strengthen the sinews of a marriage, help it knit together through the scar tissues of conflict.
Of course with today’s wedding registries many of these duplications are avoided, but there’s still the maverick relative out there who’s going to get what he wants to get, dadgummit, and the youngsters had damn well better get used to it. There’s a rebel in every crowd.
Or sometimes just a crazy Uncle.
Odd thing is, I had that guy in my first marriage and I still use the socket wrench set he gave as a gift today.
He was unable not to offer advice to me. With this leering grin on his face, he whispered in my ear, “Good tools last.”
America, ya gotta love it