My Head

A Gift

2006-11-14T11:01:00.000-08:00

Some people pay attention to their friends and mentally note things to index back to at a later date when an occasion occurs that calls for a gift. Some people know their friends very well and use creativity and familiarity to select an appropriate and thoughtful gift to give when circumstance allows. I am not one of these people.

Occasions to give gifts cause me gift selection performance anxiety. On one hand, nobody who judges based on gifts they get from me will bring me down. On the other hand, I want the enjoyment and satisfaction of giving a gift that comes with the excitement and constant use of said gift from the recipient. Call me selfish, I realize I am.

Of course, not all times warrant the thought and anguish required to come up with a truly satisfying and enjoyable gift. Gift lists such as wedding registries illustrate this point perfectly. I don’t object to giving gifts of utility in these cases, but in cases of normal gift giving, what’s the point? People will buy themselves the stuff they things they need to get by, and even a nice utility gift usually doesn’t evoke the emotional response I look for in gift giving. When was the last time someone got really excited over the present of a gravy boat or new shower curtains?

Recently my friends Mike and Rachel married each other. Although registries accompany marriages, this was a case where I knew a utility gift would not bring me the satisfaction I wanted to feel when they opened their wedding gift from me. When I spoke of occasions when gift giving gives me performance anxiety, I was speaking of things like this. As per my typical gift giving self, I pondered for moments about what to get them, then simultaneously forgot about it completely and decided if I wanted to get them something thoughtful, it’d be something that jumped out at me and made me remember I still owe them.

As much as I love this strategy, I feel I should note that this does not work for less time sensitive gifts such as birthdays, anniversaries, Valentine’s Day gifts, or Christmas gifts. This strategy, as awesome as it is, seems to only fit with items that you may appropriately give someone within a year window.

Recently I spent some time with Mike and Rachel in their apartment. During this time, Rachel said something that snapped the memory of needing to obtain them a present from under a pile of dusty thoughts back to the front of my head. Rachel made a comment about how learning to cook would be one of the last things she’d ever want to do. Why cook, when you could be playing video games? At this point in time I realized the gift I wanted to give them was the joy of cooking, and not the cookbook by that title.

I realize the inherent risk of giving a gift to someone who has explicitly expressed having no interest in the subject. A gift like this has the potential to go completely unappreciated and unused. If successful, though, it will be as personal a gift that I could give someone and may even bring our friendships lightly closer over a new shared common interest. I feel the benefits make the risk worth taking.

The obvious next item I needed to think through was how to give someone a gift of enjoyment? You either like something or not, right? I considered giving them a gift of cooking classes where someone assists you in preparing something extravagant and in the end you get to eat your creation. Such classes definitely hold entertainment value, but I feel the recipes are too extravagant and setting too abnormal to sink in and impart a newfound enjoyment into someone. I don’t want the entertainment aspect of classes to get in the way of discovering the enjoyment in the actual cooking process.

It seems then that the best remaining choice in gifts to persuade someone to enjoy cooking is a nice cookbook. A cookbook in no way describes how to enjoy anything, so it seems that I will have to write a lengthy explanation of why they’re getting this as a gift in the inside front cover. This handwritten explanation would further personalize and distinguish this cookbook from the current and hopeful future collection of cookbooks and if written correctly, may inspire a new opinion on the enjoyment of cooking. Now, what to write?

Mike and Rachel Varga,

Congratulations to both of you for committing your lives to each other and deciding to share the rest of your lives together. In celebration of your lives coming together, please accept this gift. It is my intention that the thoughts and ideas in this cookbook will not sit in the closet or on the shelves of wherever you make your home in the future. If you allow it, this cookbook will stay in your kitchen, where it will be used to help make food to feed you and your future children. It will stay by your bed or by your desk where you will plan recipes to cook later in the week. Its ideas will stay with you as your cooking experience grows and expands beyond the boundaries of its covers.

We are all born with a natural addiction to food. No matter how much we enjoy the process of eating, we must eat in order to continue living. This natural addiction is paired with the senses of smell, taste and touch to allow us to appreciate eating food as an enjoyable experience beyond that of simply refueling our bodies.

Cooking allows us to dictate our experience and enjoyment with these senses. Although cooking differs from visual art and music in terms of emotional expression, it allows for imaginative expression, which I know you find enjoyable. This cookbook is a primer for that expression; the cooking equivalent of a connect-the-dots book.

It is my hope that this present leads you to discovering a new avenue of artistic expression, as well as a new look on how to enjoy an everyday aspect of life. From the tastes, smells and textures of the foods you prepare to the positive physiological and mental differences homemade food provides, cooking is an overall positive experience I feel necessary to push onto you. I look forward to sharing many cooking and eating experiences with you in the future, and if you decide to not listen to my advice and never use this book, I won’t be your friend anymore.

Love,
Paul

I think that one's okay. File this in the "Paul hates giving gifts, but loves cooking" department.

Money

2006-10-16T11:09:00.000-07:00

I find myself pinching pennies more than anyone else I know. I've learned that money in the bank is money wasted and I've modeled my spending around that principle. I've also made financial commitments for an object that I wanted and that I assumed I'd always value highly. Specifically, I'm talking about the financial commitment to buying my car, a 2003 Mazda RX8.

I love my eight. I also feel like the quality of the car justifies the money I spend on it. I bought the car used and it still has a bit of the factory warranty and some extended warranty left on it. I also bought it at a time that I needed a different type of vehicle to get around in. At the time, I lived in a condo that had huge speed bumps leading into the parking area that my hobby car couldn't negotiate. In addition, driving around in a 2+2 left me feeling the need for something with more utility and reliability than my hobby car.

Initially, I viewed the eight with fond eyes because I viewed it as liberation from car troubles that I would no longer face from driving my hobby car everywhere. I viewed the eight as practical because I could fit four people in it and still retain the image and drivability of a sports car. The honeymooning period enthusiasm I felt for my new vehicular freedoms dwindled as the monthly payments began and the slow realization of to what I had committed by signing the loan paperwork sank in.

$4200 a year toward the car payment (What a shitty investment!)
$1560 a year toward car insurance (Stupid government mandated gambling!)
$1200 a year toward fuel (OPEC donation)
$100 a year toward registration (State of CA donation)
$100 a year toward maintenance (Mazda donation)

Total: $7,160 per year fewer dollars in my pocket!

It's true that money changes everything, but only if you let it. My overall opinion on the eight now remains the same, although for different reasons, but my enthusiasm died. It's hard to be enthusiastic with the realization that my car tastes contribute more to my need to penny pinch than any other frivolous aspect of my lifestyle. This fact forced me to consider whether I should still be making the payments on something this hard for me to afford. Yet even with my questioning, I continually come to the same decision. In spite of the overwhelming logical evidence for me to come to the contrary, I am emotionally attached to my car and unable to separate myself from the coolness of it. Even if it means pinching pennies, I still make the decision every month to continue paying off that loan. It's up to me to not let money get in the way of my enthusiasm and continually audit my emotional side to be sure all expenditures can still generate the enthusiasm required to justify my bottom line.

File this one under the "It's not getting what you want, it's wanting what you got" department.

Read my Diary

2006-10-14T13:57:00.000-07:00

I want a pet. I didn't know I wanted a pet until I took a shower today. Public pools turn my skin into a chlorine sponge. A chemical scented pine tree hanging from the rearview mirror, just add water. So, as I showered the smell of chlorine into my bathroom, I decided a distraction would be a good idea.

Everyone should sing in the shower. Life would be much better if we lived like Tolkien's hobbits; with everyone singing. I have a limited shower song repertoir, so I decided I should branch out. The first song to come to mind is James Taylor, You've Got a Friend. This is my favorite part of the song:

You just call out my name
And you know whereever I am
Ill come running
To see you again

When I hear this part of the song, I think about it as background music in a movie with a eight year old boy walking down the street, just next to the sidewalk with his arm around another similarly aged boy. Maybe I'm remembering something I've already seen, but I like that image and I like this song. It makes me feel good. It makes me believe in friendship.

I don't know all the words of the song, so I ended up singing that part over and over. I'm sure the rest of the song is good as well, but without the lyrics all I could do was mumble through the rest and enjoy the part I like. I'm pretty sure James Taylor didn't mind me putting a little extra wear on the chorus.

After my shower I jumped on my capital I Internet (love that line, so I'm stealing it, sorry Adam) surfboard and found the complete lyrics to the song. Singing the song to myself in the shower left me wanting to hear it how it's supposed to sound, and luckily enough for me I ran across this: http://www.indigo.org/friends/

Now you probably want a pet too, if you don't already have one. If you do have a pet, you're welcome for that warm fuzzy feeling of appreciation you just felt for him/her.

File this one into the "Paul feels emotions" bin.