The Ultimate Gift List

 

Every year friends of mine have a group birthday party and ask the guests of honor to submit a gift list. I always like to be as original as possible with gift giving, no Amazon or generics and if I can make a gift, even better.

I’m practical and budget friendly with stuff I ask for but there are some intangible, out of reach things or experiences I wish I could have.

Dinner with Stephen Fry. Fry is arguably the smartest man around. I could listen to him converse on any topic for hours—which he does, on many podcasts, but to have a chance to trades ideas with the man during a great meal, sigh. That goes for movie shop talk with Dame Judy Dench, Jennifer Lewrance or Paul Rudd.

A tour of Adam Savage’s work shop. I loved Mythbusters and Savage’s joy was a delight to behold. Now he has a YouTube channel where he builds all manner of props, tools, gadgets and space helmets, an obsession I share with him. “The cave” as his workshop is called, is a maker’s wet dream. I drool at all his cool stuff and would kill to just get a tour of it (some people have and I envy them).

A katana, the sword of the samurai. I came this close to getting one when I went to Japan in 2008. I just got my black belt in aikido and deserved one for my years of training. So me and a couple of aikido folks wandered into a sword shop and I asked to look at one. The male clerk was bored with showing me one until my companion ( the witty wife of a fellow student) referred to me as sensei ( meaning teacher) and he immediately became respectful--the Japanese take martial arts rank seriously. Alas, after some calculation I decided I couldn’t afford it. I regret my frugality to this day.

A novel on the best sellers list. You’d think I would be published after writing for fifty years. Nope. Getting published is much harder than you think. Self publishing isn’t easy either and being autistic doesn’t help. So I write, it goes in a drawer and I dream of having a novel faithfully turned into a hit movie starring Paul Rudd and Jennifer Lawerance.

A full backyard make over. I’m great at interior remodeling but not with gardening. I plant things and they die. You knows those cable shows where a professional crew comes in and remodels a dull drab back yard. Yeah I need that.

Lastly, peace, love and chocolate to everyone I know and love. Happy Birthday, whatever the date, I’m glad you were born.

Ben's Birthday

 

ClipArt Best

 

    "Happy birthday boss," Ben chirps as I sit down to lunch.

    "Ah, it's no big deal," I mutter.

    As I get older I find the annual event disappointing. Still not a published author, no vocation to look fondly back on or retirement to look forward to, more people dying while dealing with my failing body parts.

    "May I ask how old are you?" Ben's tone is genuinely curious.

    "Sixty four and please no Beatles song reference," I snort.

    I never thought I'd live this long and it occurs to me that I have outlived my paternal grandmother who died at 63. Amazingly my other grandmother lived to be 77 despite a life time of heavy smoking and alcoholism. I don't wish to surpass her record.

    "How are you going to celebrate?" he asks.

    "Maybe get a massage or have dessert by myself."

    "Ahem."

    "Oh with your leafy company of course," I correct. My knowledge of plants is pretty thin so now my curiosity is piqued.

    "How old are you?" I ask.

    "Hmm, maybe twelve or thirteen, if I was out in the forest, I'd live longer and grow ten stories high," he adds with a majestic stretch of branches.  

    "You wouldn't last long here in Oregon," I remind him. He occasionally hints at being outdoors but Gwen has made it clear to keep him inside where it's safer.

    "There are palm trees just down the street," he pleads.

    "How do you know that?" honestly I wonder how he's so aware of the world around him.

    "We trees to talk to each other you know," he informs me with obvious impatience.

    "Through the root system yeah, but you're in a pot."

    "What would be the perfect birthday for you?" he asks. It takes me a second to catch his evasion. I doodle aimlessly on the margin of the newspaper where I have been doing a crossword puzzle and think about this.

    " I guess a fancy dinner and good company," I find myself caught up in the daydream.

    "The main course would be linguini in clam sauce cooked by a Michelin Chef, some wine I could never afford and conversation with Stephen Fry, possibly the most intelligent person around and could converse on any subject. Opera mezzo soprano Marilyn Horne, who I saw at San Francisco Opera forty years ago. I bet she has some tales to tell, and Sigourney Weaver, who is jus plain awesome. Reminiscing about "Galaxy Quest" alone would make this movie geek happy. How about you?"  Ben, as usual, takes time to consider an answer.

    "I'm out in the garden, the morning starts with a delicious dew that tickles my leaves as the sun comes out and dissolves the sparkles. A sparrow lands on a high branch and sings a song just for me. I enjoy the day as a slight warm breeze gently rocks me and I commune with the pine trees nearby." he sighs in such content I'm envious.

    "Can we trade birthday dreams?"

    "No. I don't like seafood."