Just in time to be exactly two weeks late for my birthday, my father called me at work to ask me out to lunch. I hadn't talked to him in months or even seen him in over a year. So we go to lunch and he gives me a very practical gift. A watch. And while I'm eating green peppers and beef, it occurs to me that as I have gotten older, I have had an increasing number of birthdays. And the gifts I've received have become far fewer and significantly more practical.
As children, the only time we got things was on our birthdays or Greed Celebration Holiday. We aged some and got allowances or a paper route. The Present-Practicality graph takes a dive. Years go by and a job is presented to you. The P-P graph dives again. Next thing you know, you're twenty-five with a full-time job, rent to pay, car payments, and your parents are giving you complete pastel flower print linen and towel sets to match your existing latex sheets and leather pillowcases, black shower curtain, and the "Master" and "Slave" towel set. If it is a time of gift-giving, I want something mind-bogglingly stupid. Giving should be an experience that afterwards can be a shared playing experience. I want toys damn it!
I make this point, because my P-P is nose-diving. Just because I'm older and work for a living doesn't mean that I want practical gifts. Being on my own, I am forced to be more practical, spending money less on what I want and more on what I need. I am perfectly capable of being practical myself. So getting practical gifts drives me practically insane.
For my next birthday, I'd ask for money if I thought it would do any good. I should quit my job and move in with my 'rent like the good old days. Back when things that I wanted didn't cost more than ten dollars, rent was free and I got what I wanted on my birthday.
