My Best Christmas Present Ever
With the excitement and crush of Christmas now put off for another year, and with the concomitant restriction on food and perambulation re-targeted to my own kitchen table, I decided to dig into the archives for some reminiscences of Christmases Past.
Below is a column I penned twenty-three years ago. My lads were mere boys then, not men--yet. We had just finished opening all our presents on Christmas morn, and we were all enjoying them. (Some more than others, as you'll see.) So, rather than use my gift immediately, I decided to "journalize."
Come back with me to Christmas morn, 1997...
As a child, I was less than enthusiastic about opening Christmas presents if I suspected there were clothes inside. My folks were happy, of course, because they knew I needed them, and they may have even conspired with my relatives to make sure I got them. But there was definitely more Christmas magic in the toys than there was in the clothes, no matter how nice they were.
As I got older, especially in my teens, clothes and other things that weren't toys started to become more important. Old Spice After Shave, for example, was highly prized, because it meant I could stop borrowing my father's stock. Now that I think of it, that may be why he made sure I got some.
Most behavioral scientists acknowledge that the drives to survive and reproduce are the basic drives of men. Too many overlook the fact that boomer males still have the Toy Drive. That's what moves them to enjoy the stuff their kids get under the tree perhaps more than the kids themselves. (
Females are different. Somehow, as girls become women they seem to lose the desire for "toys" and go whole hog for the clothes thing. It becomes easy to buy for women as they age: jewelry (which may fall into the toy category), perfume and clothes usually satisfy the fairer sex at Christmas time.
Some guys (with the wherewithal) can get extravagant and put big red bows on Corvettes, Z- 3's or Boxsters sitting in the driveway, or put a couple surprise vacation tickets in the stocking. Most of us, however, fall into the JPC (jewelry, perfume and clothes) category.
But the present that got my complete attention this year was one that was intended for me, and only me. It is not only something I wanted for a long time, but something I actually thought of inventing some time ago when I noticed Father Time playing some tricks on my body. It's a gift I believe every boomer male would love to have because it's not only functional, it falls into the toy category.
Nose and ear hair trimmers.
Oh, they call them "Personal Grooming Devices," but they're nose and ear hair trimmers. Women have menopause and men have nose and ear hair. That's not to downplay menopause, because most men can't begin to understand that trick nature plays on women. The other trick is childbirth. But most women just do not understand our problem, either. It's called, technically, hairy pinna, which is a name sufficiently disgusting to describe it.
And for some reason, those hairs grow much faster and thicker than the ones that come out of our heads. I've always suspected that the proliferation of nose and ear hair after age 45 was Mother Nature's way of making up for what she took from our scalps. That She would think it looks better down there says much about her sense of humor.
Women get briefed by their mothers early on about that biological stuff. And they see menopause and the effects it has on everybody around the sufferer. But why didn't anyone warn us men about this? Oh, they told us we'd get old and saggy, and we understand that as we age, we look better with our clothes on. But wildly growing nose and ear hair can't be hidden, and it serves no logical purpose other than to gross everybody--including its owner--out.
Maybe Mother Nature thinks that if we let it grow long enough, we can comb it up and over the top of our heads and spray it down like some guys do? Still, what a great invention to take care of a problem that nobody told us about when we were kids. Scissors are too dangerous to stick there, and tweezers in the schnozzola hurt too much. And the thing uses batteries and makes noise like a toy!
Nose and ear hair trimmers!
Just what I wanted! I can't believe it!
My God, I really can't believe it....
(Published 1997)
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