The Gift That Will Keep on Sucking

I always get good, sometimes great, Christmas gifts. It's nice to get anything at all; it warms the cockles of one's heart (I feel them heating up as I write this) to know that someone thought enough of me to get me anything at all, much less a thoughtful, interesting gift. This year was no exception.

My father-in-law passed on some cuff links that I consider treasured heirlooms; my cousin gave me Bob Dylan and Cheap Trick DVDs; a friend gave me a harmonica with a how-to booklet! I'm leaving out many wonderful things but I did want to mention the Christmas gift I received that sucks.

I write, of course, about a brand spanking new Eureka vacuum cleaner, given to my wife and I by my wife's sister and her husband. (I think of it as mine though, as I do the vacuuming, and most of the housecleaning. It's mine, I tell you, all mine!) Done up in glittery ruby red paint, this does not look like the gun-metal gray Electrolux of my mother's day. This is a carpet dirt killing machine. And I love it, even though I haven't even used it yet; I just like looking at it. I didn't think a vacuum could look so cool, like a new Mustang or something. So there it sits, waiting for the right vacuuming experience. I want the first time to be special.

I don't really know what's wrong with me. I enjoy doing the laundry as well, and ironing the clothes. Ironing is a bit of a chore, but still, there is satisfaction to be gained, a sense of fulfillment. A woman I used to work with once told me I enjoyed doing the laundry because it was a simple, necessary task, one in which I could readily see the fruits of my labor, in this case, clean, ironed clothes, thereby easily achieving a sense of accomplishment that I didn't get from my gainful employment. While perhaps a tad overly psychoanalytic, she did have a point about my employment; I felt nothing while working in the insurance industry, nothing other than the sense of time passing me by.

But I digress. I have had a wonderful Christmas season, filled with the numerous pleasures of family and friends and food and enough booze to float a battleship. I'll rev up the vacuum one day soon and let you know how it goes.