The Present of Pulp

Birthdays, at my age, have declined sadly to the perfunctory stage and as I get older, I find I am harder to please.  Finding the perfect gift for women of a certain age is difficult (keep in mind that flowers, cards, perfume and romantic getaways are all greatly appreciated, but will fade and pass - although if it makes you feel better giving these things, do not stop on my account).  With my memory the way it is, even when the most elaborate of presents have been bestowed, I give it about a month before my flashback abilities will all but evaporate and any possibility of useful recall of said gift will be shrouded and not worth a hill of beans.

Getting old is hell, but every time I consider the alternative, a level of frustration arises that I have no idea what I would wear to my own funeral.  Black works so well for me now (slimming, yet stylish) but I am thinking something a bit more cheerful would probably be better under the circumstances.  And what about the food?  Would appetizers be adequate or should an all out meal be planned?  Dessert is a must, as would intoxicating spirits... fortunately, I have been saved from myself and this evil downward spiraling trend was stopped by an inventive, non-solicitous friend who lavished upon me the consummate birthday gift, a subscription to a cooking magazine.  This is the kind of bounty only someone near and dear could think of giving and know I would love.

Seriously, how much better could a gift be?  Is this not the most perfect present of presents?  Jettisoning yourself to be astutely aware that you have revealed enough of yourself for your friend to know you adequately well (including your tastes, quirks and qualms) to choose such a specific gift, you quickly realize this must be a true friend; one that has been through thick and thin with you and is worthy of keeping your deep dark secrets.  Every time you receive the magazine you will be reminded of the dear person who graciously gave it to you (and you get to celebrate your birthday for the whole year because you get a "present" in the mail each month, which as we all know is too much fun and qualifies as exciting in its own right and has the power to revert you back into childhood and the times you would get a birthday card from a relative with money in it).  Each article that is read is nourishment for the soul and fodder for future conversation.

All attempts of a new recipe tried will tie you indelibly to the enduring and most fundamental ingredients of the friendship, including the sharing and bonding over the "extra calories" of life. Rather intense thought for something that may appear simple on the onset, but digging deeper brings you the tools to build an insanely intricate soufflé, so to speak.  If you think about it, this type of gift covers so many bases that it genuinely reflects the tiny pieces and parcels of life.  Throw in the fact that you can hold a magazine in your hands, fall asleep with them near your side and stack them neatly to be pulled out and referenced when necessary, this is a substantial gift that will continue to be enjoyed for years to come.

It will surely be my year filled with fabulous foodstuffs, fancy fare, delectable dinners and desirous desserts, thanks to my awesomely inspiring birthday present.  I could probably get a head start for planning a full out celebration of life if I were so inclined - but I think I can wait a few years for that and for now sit back, flip through the pages of my magazine and be thankful for such a thoughtful friend.

Cynthia A. McClelland, curious observer of the obvious with interpretations of the oddities of daily life.  Mother, wife and lover of the furry, resides in the north Lake Tahoe area.

Cynthia A. McClelland © 2003-