A friend and I once discovered that as children in the '70s we'd both owned the Comanche Pass play set (from Marx Toys), which involved a band of Comanche warriors dropping a plastic boulder onto a settlers' wagon train. (Fun!) He once said to me, jokingly but wistfully — and he's not a particularly wistful person — that "I'd like to hold that boulder in my hand once more before I die." So every now and then, for the next several years, I'd do an eBay search for that damn boulder. It was an elusive quest… but at last, the very boulder appeared and I snapped it up. I then hired a maker (via Etsy) who customizes velvet bags (mostly for bottles of cognac, I imagine) to create a small bag embroidered with the word BOULDER; I put the boulder. in the bag before giving it to my friend. Totally ridiculous, but I wanted to show this person — in a light-hearted way — how important he is to me! He's one of my favorite people, and the world's best creative collaborator too. I hope he got the message….
A great example! And it could only happen because you were paying attention to your friend. He's lucky to know and work with you and have you as a friend ;)
My husband is super tall, and the first house we had together was built for smaller folk. Dean had to duck whenever he came down the stairs, or he’d bang his head — which he tended to do if he was distracted.
So for Christmas one year, I went around our neighborhood and took photos of the letters D (from Homestead Gourmet Shop), U (Rubie’s Costumes), C (Gray’s Bicycle Shop) and K (Kew Gardens Cinema) — all businesses we patronized. I matted and framed each photo individually, and then wrapped them separately, without indicating which order he should open them. We opened gifts at my mom’s that year, and she’s kind of proper. Dean opened the U first, then the C and then the K. As he opened the last one, he said, “Um … I hope it’s a Y!” When he saw the D, he understood. We hung the letters at the dangerous place on the stairwell, and he never banged his head again.
We’ve since moved from that house, and our current home doesn’t have any tricky spots. But we hung the letters on the wall as a nice reminder of that first house and our lovely Queens neighborhood.
I am a fan of the Lewis Hyde book “The gift” (originally creativity and the erotic life of property, but that title seems to have been changed)
A gift is something you do with no expectation of return. So, the holiday gift exchange makes no sense of course. When I “give” the grocer $ and she “gives” me a pound of cheese, that just a transaction.
So, the other night a friend admired my pocket knife, so I gave it to him. But that’s certainly not the best gift I have given. Maybe the tools I gave a young immigrant, but I’m not sure.
I like the idea of a gift that keeps moving.
Unconditional love? Knowledge? Patience?
Two favorite gifts received, a sweater my mother knit in her final days. Beautiful
Warm. Full of her embodied energy.
A book from a lover on the history of constellations, cherished because she understood me so well. I think the understanding was the gift. (Like Josh above, to think deeply of another is a gift)
A great thought provocation for an old man living alone on a cold night. I think your journal of “dichos” is excellent.
My husband excels at gift giving. One year he got me an iPod and loaded all my favorite music. Another time he bought me a digital photo frame and loaded all my special photos. I took it in to work and was the envy of all my cube mates. But the best gift was when I came hone from a trip and he had set up and stocked an aquarium for me. I cried. Fish tanks have a special meaning for me as my Father kept betas (beautiful Siamese fighting fish) when I was little. I love to watch fish.
My wife somehow got most of my friends and family to record a short video message saying a memory about me they loved or something else fun, and she edited it all together into a one hour supercut of love. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to top that.
I got suspicious that something was happening when a few people that wouldn’t normally know asked when exactly my birthday was, but I never guessed what the end result would be.
When I was 16 and moved from Scotland to Canada with my family, my group of friends collaborated on a going-away scrapbook for me. Each person took a page and wrote a bit about why they liked me and what they’d miss, as well as inside jokes and teenagery banter. They doodled, glued photos and bits of ephemera, like concert tickets. It was such a lifeline at the time because I really didn’t want to leave. This book, scrappy though it was, served as a tangible reminder that I could make good friends and would again, which was so important at a time when I felt very awkward and isolated. And now it’s less of a lifeline, but still a cherished keepsake. What makes gifts like this so special is that they are super personal and thoughtful, one-of-a-kind really. I’m now trying to recreate this level of meaningful words-forward collaborative giving for others with my own project — Fondfolio :)
Thanks! I did that thing where I undermine my efforts for fear of being too self-promoty — it’s less a project and more a real company at this point, though still a one-woman-show, :-P https://fondfolio.com/
A friend and I once discovered that as children in the '70s we'd both owned the Comanche Pass play set (from Marx Toys), which involved a band of Comanche warriors dropping a plastic boulder onto a settlers' wagon train. (Fun!) He once said to me, jokingly but wistfully — and he's not a particularly wistful person — that "I'd like to hold that boulder in my hand once more before I die." So every now and then, for the next several years, I'd do an eBay search for that damn boulder. It was an elusive quest… but at last, the very boulder appeared and I snapped it up. I then hired a maker (via Etsy) who customizes velvet bags (mostly for bottles of cognac, I imagine) to create a small bag embroidered with the word BOULDER; I put the boulder. in the bag before giving it to my friend. Totally ridiculous, but I wanted to show this person — in a light-hearted way — how important he is to me! He's one of my favorite people, and the world's best creative collaborator too. I hope he got the message….
A great example! And it could only happen because you were paying attention to your friend. He's lucky to know and work with you and have you as a friend ;)
My husband is super tall, and the first house we had together was built for smaller folk. Dean had to duck whenever he came down the stairs, or he’d bang his head — which he tended to do if he was distracted.
So for Christmas one year, I went around our neighborhood and took photos of the letters D (from Homestead Gourmet Shop), U (Rubie’s Costumes), C (Gray’s Bicycle Shop) and K (Kew Gardens Cinema) — all businesses we patronized. I matted and framed each photo individually, and then wrapped them separately, without indicating which order he should open them. We opened gifts at my mom’s that year, and she’s kind of proper. Dean opened the U first, then the C and then the K. As he opened the last one, he said, “Um … I hope it’s a Y!” When he saw the D, he understood. We hung the letters at the dangerous place on the stairwell, and he never banged his head again.
We’ve since moved from that house, and our current home doesn’t have any tricky spots. But we hung the letters on the wall as a nice reminder of that first house and our lovely Queens neighborhood.
This is fantastic! And that detail about the "D" being opened last -- you couldn't have planned it better. Thanks Alleen!
I am a fan of the Lewis Hyde book “The gift” (originally creativity and the erotic life of property, but that title seems to have been changed)
A gift is something you do with no expectation of return. So, the holiday gift exchange makes no sense of course. When I “give” the grocer $ and she “gives” me a pound of cheese, that just a transaction.
So, the other night a friend admired my pocket knife, so I gave it to him. But that’s certainly not the best gift I have given. Maybe the tools I gave a young immigrant, but I’m not sure.
I like the idea of a gift that keeps moving.
Unconditional love? Knowledge? Patience?
Two favorite gifts received, a sweater my mother knit in her final days. Beautiful
Warm. Full of her embodied energy.
A book from a lover on the history of constellations, cherished because she understood me so well. I think the understanding was the gift. (Like Josh above, to think deeply of another is a gift)
A great thought provocation for an old man living alone on a cold night. I think your journal of “dichos” is excellent.
I’m going to work on this.
Great thoughts Dan, thank you. And agree about Hyde's book, it's great!
My husband excels at gift giving. One year he got me an iPod and loaded all my favorite music. Another time he bought me a digital photo frame and loaded all my special photos. I took it in to work and was the envy of all my cube mates. But the best gift was when I came hone from a trip and he had set up and stocked an aquarium for me. I cried. Fish tanks have a special meaning for me as my Father kept betas (beautiful Siamese fighting fish) when I was little. I love to watch fish.
These are amazing! Thanks so much (and a high five to your husband!)
My wife somehow got most of my friends and family to record a short video message saying a memory about me they loved or something else fun, and she edited it all together into a one hour supercut of love. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to top that.
I got suspicious that something was happening when a few people that wouldn’t normally know asked when exactly my birthday was, but I never guessed what the end result would be.
This is fantastic! Great job by your wife! Thanks for this :)
When I was 16 and moved from Scotland to Canada with my family, my group of friends collaborated on a going-away scrapbook for me. Each person took a page and wrote a bit about why they liked me and what they’d miss, as well as inside jokes and teenagery banter. They doodled, glued photos and bits of ephemera, like concert tickets. It was such a lifeline at the time because I really didn’t want to leave. This book, scrappy though it was, served as a tangible reminder that I could make good friends and would again, which was so important at a time when I felt very awkward and isolated. And now it’s less of a lifeline, but still a cherished keepsake. What makes gifts like this so special is that they are super personal and thoughtful, one-of-a-kind really. I’m now trying to recreate this level of meaningful words-forward collaborative giving for others with my own project — Fondfolio :)
This is fantastic! Thanks so much. And your project sounds quite promising!
Thanks! I did that thing where I undermine my efforts for fear of being too self-promoty — it’s less a project and more a real company at this point, though still a one-woman-show, :-P https://fondfolio.com/
Oh, very cool! Thanks so much :)
I gave a perfect avocado to a friend, once. And to another friend, I gave a tiny eggplant.
Ooh very good!
Coincidentally, friend of TAoN Ingrid Fetell Lee has some useful suggestions for finding good gifts:
https://www.instagram.com/p/C0C8I-svcOd/?img_index=1