The Gift Cycle: I want out

Photo: http://www.daylife.com/photo/0d6g1SP5XBgwU

I adamantly believe most gifts are given out of a sense of social responsibility. Yeah, I'm sure most of you are saying that is Grinch talk, but I ask that you hear me out before you say my heart is two sizes too small.

My main line of reasoning is that situations have been established in our culture that provide an opportunity, I mean... a requirement, to give a gift away.

Everyone is associated with a day in which their birth will be celebrated, a.k.a. a birthday. On that day gifts MUST be given to the person chalking up another year of life. Same with the Christmas holiday. On that day gifts MUST be given to everyone.

Where does the tradition of giving gifts come from? Perhaps it originates back to the story of Jesus's birth, where wise men came bearing gifts. (Note that the shepherds didn't bring anything, and they weren't turned away from the event.)

Actually, the tradition started even earlier. In ancient Rome people would exchange gifts on New Year's Day. These gift exchanges went on for a long time, but as Christianity expanded the church attempted to halt it, seeing it as a pagan tradition. However, the gift exchanges were too popular with the people so they decided instead to associate gift giving with the Magi at the birth of Jesus, rather than associate it with a Roman holiday.

So that's a brief background on Christmas gift-giving, which we as a culture have extended into birthday gift-giving, because one time a year isn't enough. Furthermore, there are baby showers, weddings, holidays, housewarmings, anniversaries, funerals, graduations, all of which stand as another reason for gifts to be given.

So for those asking what is wrong with established dates of gift giving, first I say it takes the logic out of giving a present. If every year your good friend is going to give you a gift on your birthday, then you in turn will give them a gift for their birthday, why don't you just save your time and money and each just buy something for yourselves? At least that way your guaranteed to get what you want.

Is there any charity involved with giving a gift to someone when you know you're scheduled to get a gift from them soon? Would people really head out Christmas shopping at 4 a.m. the day after Thanksgiving if they knew there wasn't going to be anything under the tree for them on Christmas morning? Would they really buy a birthday present every year for somebody that never got them anything on theirs? Perhaps some would, but I hope my questions make a point.

What's the common phrase heard when people are going out to get a gift for someone they don't regularly exchange gifts with? "I have to, they randomly got me something last year." Yes, most people buy gifts for someone out of the fear that that person might get them something.

Not only that, receiving gifts on particular events has become so ingrained in us that it has become expected. Why the heck do people send out graduation announcements? It's definitely not to announce their graduation; the announcers expect gifts. Why do people hold bridal showers? Why do people hold birthday parties?

And so I want out. I don't want out of giving gifts, per se, but I want out of the gift cycles society has created. I don't want some blasted store telling me when I should be buying someone a gift. I want to give when I feel the need to give, and that can't be pinned down to a day on the calendar.

Only problem is, I need people to join me. Until then I'll look like a jerk at birthday parties.

Then again, I don't know... maybe I'm wrong. Maybe we're not ready for truly sporadic giving. Take away all our holidays and anniversaries and birthdays, and we'd probably never give each other a dang thing.

Useless decorations

Cultures are distinguished by their living quarters. Many of those native to the North American continent made tepees and wrapped them thick with animal skins. The skins kept their house insulated from the cold. The early settlers of the Southwest caked mud on the inside of their walls. When dried, it protected the house from the blistering heat.

I worry that the current condition of our living quarters may throw some future anthropologist off. A few modern household decorations, in my opinion, are completely non-functional:

Lots of pillows on the bed. I don't know why, but for some reason my wife thinks our bed looks better when it's overflowing with pillows. If it wasn't for the purple and green pillow-covers, the bed would stand for a cumulus cloud.

The annoying thing is, you have to take them all off when you want to sleep in the thing. But that's the easy part--you can just chuck 'em on the floor. What sucks is placing them back all pack on in the morning in their appropriate order. My wife is trying to figure out a way to number them because I can't ever place them right; all I know is the cylindrical one goes last.

Along the same lines, our bed features a folded blanket at the foot of the bed. A "runner," I believe it's called. According to my wife's rules, it can't be used as a blanket. It's just placed after the bed is made.

So if our house were to sit as is and was unearthed later on, the discovering anthropologist would have to conclude we slept with our necks propped up at 90 degrees and our feet were always freezing. They would also assume our bodies were only about three feet long, since the pillows take up the other three feet of length.

The barn star hung on the house. You don't have to drive around suburbia long before finding a large and rusty star nailed to the front of someone's house. For those out of the loop, it may seem that someone just forgot to take down a 4th of July decoration. Not so, some people think it's a great way to add a rustic accent to their home. People who hang these usually have a kitchen themed after some type of farm animal (e.g., cows, pigs, roosters).

Future anthropologist will quickly realize the barn star served no structural purpose, and therefore conclude it was a religious symbol. They would figure inhabitants worshiped it as they came and went.

Fake fruit. Utilized as a decoration over real fruit because it doesn't draw fruit flies, fake fruit is found in many homes today; a bowl of rubber grapes on the end tables in the living room, a pile of plastic pears on the table in the dining room. No doubt, fake fruit has gotten amazingly realistic over the years. The real thing is mimicked down to the wood-grains in the stems, to the dimples in the peels.

This decoration will really throw anthropologist a curve ball. After much deliberation, you'd have to imagine they'd think the homes with fake fruit were homes of the peasants. They couldn't afford food, but they didn't want visitors to think their cupboards weren't stocked. So they'd form fake fruit and set it out all around the house.

Whatever the case, as a man I'd hope future anthropologist would realize we didn't adorn our homes with non-functional decor because we were a regressing society. We did it because we realized the best way to progress as a culture was by keeping the wife happy.

Photo 1: http://www.fdlhome.com/index.asp?PageAction=COMPANY
Photo 2: http://www.picanswers.com/questions/530-barn-stars-made-in-the-united-states-
Photo 3: http://www.seefred.com/cgi-bin/shop.pl/page=newfruit.htm

New Sport: Competitive Blood Donating

I'm a card-carrying blood donor. I don't donate as often as I should, but I usually do it at least once a year.

I got a donor card from the Red Cross on my first time. It says "A Positive" underneath my name. Whenever my wife tells me I'm being too negative, I pull out my donor card and correct her. "No, I'm a positive." That's about all I've been able to use my card for so far.

I had the opportunity to donate a couple weeks ago. As I'm sure you're aware, I started out by going through the rigorous screening process. I had to answer questions like...

"Have you ever made love to a cow from the UK?"
"Have you ever spent more than five days in Little Rock, AR?"
"Do you eat at Arby's more than twice a week?"
"Do you swim in public pools?"

I guess I cleared the screening, because I was sent over to sit in one of the reclining donor chairs. The nurse that was going to tend to me was just getting another guy started. He seemed rather confident, as the nurse prepped him for the needle. She worked mechanically, and it was easy to tell she was nearing the end of her shift

"This will be 6 gallons," he said proudly, and then waited for the nurse to give a compliment. It never came. "If you want to look away, now's the time," she said. "I don't," he said with a smirk, and he stared at the inside of his elbow as she inserted the needle.

He must have thought he could win a date with her if he came across as the bravest patient she's ever had, or something. Once she hooked him up he clenched his teeth, furrowed his brow, and started pumping away like he was in a competition.

The nurse walked over to me, went through my paperwork, and then started to clean my arm. "You're going to want to come over here, I'm almost done," the cocky guy shouted triumphantly. It looked like he'd broken a sweat. "Yes, you're about done," said the nurse. She then unhooked the blood bag. "What's my time?" he asked. Without emotion, she said, "4 minutes and 39 seconds." The guy's eyes lit up and he shouted "yes!"

I didn't realize they'd be timing me. I wondered if it actually was a competition. She walked back to me and again started cleaning my arm, then asked me if I was allergic to iodine. "No, I don't think so. What's it used for, anyway?" "It kills all the icky little germs."

I sure was glad she threw "icky" in there, because I wouldn't have understood germs were bad if she didn't. Apparently I look like an idiot when I'm about to give blood.

She placed a mini foam football, enveloped in a paper towel, into my hand. Then she inserted the needle and told me to pump away.

I was concentrating on two things; 1) trying to beat 4:39, and 2) trying to pump the foam football in my hand without having my hand come into contact with it. I figured the nurse must have placed it in a paper towel for a good reason; I believed the person before me had boogers on their fingers.

I finished, and the nurse unhooked everything. "6 minutes and 42 seconds," she said. I had thought everyone that donated blood was a winner, but at the moment I didn't feel like one. The donkey next to me had beat me by two minutes.

I sat in shame as I consumed my trail mix at the recovery station. However, as I moved on to my apple juice a thought came. I realized it was time for me to live up to my blood type, and be "a positive" person. I had just given life. I was a donor of a vital body fluid. And I'm sure the receiver didn't care if it took over 6 minutes.

Phot0: http://ia.utep.edu/Default.aspx?tabid=31047

Upset with any election results? Try out no-man's land.

The results of this past election seemed to have ticked off a lot of people. Now some people in the US are going to get taxed more. Now some people in California can't get married. Now some people in Michigan can smoke pot if they're sick. The list is longer, but in sum, a lot of things did or did not pass and now a lot of people are in an uproar.

I'm not president elect, but if I was, I'd have a solution. Our country needs a no-man's land, a safe zone between the trenches. It needs a place where people can be ruled according to what they believe should be the law.

First off, this no-man's land would require some land. I checked out a map of the US, and there appears to be a good chunk of unused land in northeastern Alaska. The map I looked at labels it "ANWR." I'm sure it's up for grabs. There's also a healthy piece of waste-land real estate in the middle of Nevada.

Let's go with Nevada--they're already flexible in their tax, casino, and prostitution laws. A large no-man's land in the middle of their state shouldn't phase 'em. So Nevada would be shaped like a doughnut, with its doughnut hole being the new no-man's land.

In the doughnut hole anything would fly. It would be the place for people to go who are ticked at what and who the majority of the people in their home town, state, or country passed and elected. It's citizens would each be governed by the laws and lawmakers they prefer.

In the no-man's land you'd have hundreds of thousands of little townships, and such townships would often consist of just one household. You could go over to your neighbors, who are from Nebraska, and they may be waiting for someone to sit in their electric chair.

There would be no mayor, governor, or president of no-man's land, because of course, everyone in the place has their own. In one household/township they'll call John McCain their president. In another they'll call Ralph Nader their president. Nader would of course stop by the Johnson's house in no-man's land every January to give the State of the Union Adress:

"I'm sorry I haven't been able to get much through congress so far, Mr. and Mrs. Johnson (lots of clapping). It's just that (lots of clapping), uh, they don't regard me in the same manner as you do (lots of clapping). Anyway, the state of our Union is, um, well how are you guys doing?"

"We're doing just fine, thank you."

"OK then, I'd say the state of the Union is, um, fine (lots and lots of clapping). God bless, and good night (lots of clapping)."

Don't think no-man's land would just be full of a bunch of no names. I'm sure Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie, who will only get married when gays are allowed to, would be citizens. Yes, I believe no-man's land would be the site of the biggest Hollywood wedding ever.

Actually, as president elect I would be informed by my advisers that Area 51 is in the middle of Nevada. That would be a problem, because a number of "townships" I'm sure would make it legal to marry the aliens. Plus, I'm sure a lot of the Green Party folks would be upset about the bomb testing.

Maybe it should get moved to that ANWR place. However, if the government wanted to start drilling for oil there, we'd then have to worry about disturbing more than just caribou.

Photo: http://www.pierce-evans.org/Election.htm

I guess I just look suspicious

Photo: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/5353901/

I'm the slowest shopper in the world. The last time my wife sent me to the store for some cold-sore medicine, I came back 2 1/2 hours later with a case of ginger ale, some exotic piece of fruit from the produce section, and a pack of cinnamon graham crackers--totally forgetting the medicine. Now, when she sends me to the store, she packs me a lunch and writes the item she needs on my forehead, so the cashier will ask me about it as I'm buying a bunch of useless crap.

I just get lost in supermarkets. I'm wide-eyed and mystified by everything available for purchase. Not only that, every little purchase is a HUGE decision. If you're buying salsa, you'll need to choose mild, medium, or hot. Then you'll need to decide between the off-brand and the name-brand. Say you go with the medium name-brand. But then you notice the off-brand mild features a peach and mango variety. Well that, my friend, is a wrench thrown in your, uh, gears.

Needless to say my methodical shopping has gotten me into trouble, not only with my wife, but also with the law (kind of the same thing, though).

As you recall from a previous article, it's taken me quite some time to find a good deodorant. Every time I purchased a new stick, I'd spend a very long time scrutinizing all my options. One particular time, as I was taking forever as usual, I noticed a store clerk kept coming by the aisle I was in. She was acting very casual, but it all seemed a bit peculiar.

After walking by a number of times, she eventually came closer and started to look over the shelves next to me, as if she was scanning price tags or something. I figured I was in her way, and I knew I would need at least another 10 minutes to make a final decision, so I quickly left and walked over to the next isle to wait for her to finish. Just then she came full-speed around the corner at the other end and walked briskly towards me.

"Take out whatever you put in your pocket and give it to me!" she demanded. I told her I didn't have anything, to which she replied, "I've got security at the front door, you're not getting away." I handed her my coat and turned my pant pockets inside out for her to check everything out. "Obviously you already got rid of it," she scowled. We stood in silence for a moment, one as the accused and one as the accuser, then she stormed off.

While that happened a few years ago, just yesterday I was at a department store looking for a new set of hair clippers. I live and die by the buzz cut, so this new set of clippers I was buying was very important to me. Once I got to the aisle where they were sold a world of options was opened up to me. Did I need a cordless set? Should I pay another $8 for titanium blades? One set came with a nose-hair trimmer; should I be trimming those?

After a while I found one set of clippers that was in a partly opened box and I was able to pull out the user's manual to get some information that wasn't printed on the outside of the box. I put it back together and placed it back on the shelf.

About 30 minutes later, after carefully studying each one, I nailed down my choice and started to walk off with it. Just then I noticed two store employees waiting for me at the end of the aisle. They quickly turned away and acted like they didn't notice me. I got past them, only to have a security officer step in front of me. I knew right then what was about to go down.

"Do you need help finding anything?" he said, cynically. "No, I'm good," I replied. He followed close behind as I walked towards the nearest cash register. I looked around and figured that most of the store's employees were gathered to watch me.

I had wanted to look for a few more things, but I figured I'd be wrongfully arrested if I stayed around any longer. I checked out and walked proudly through the security beeper things by the exit doors. No alarm went off as my innocence was proved, and my refusal to make a rash decision, even if meant having a code red called out in the store, was sustained.