Collage 405              H u m o u r N e t              20 Dec 1998

Let's talk gifts. One of the many perquisites of this job is the
occasional gift that I receive from my constituency. And one of the
most amusing gifts I have ever received was sent by Brett T. in San
Mateo, California. Following Collage 402 ("Oxford Turns Traitor"),
Brett wrote to inform me that:

    The "Signs-R-Us" piece from Collage 402 was from _Anguished
    English_, by Richard Lederer. It seems to be edited excerpts
    from the "Signs of the Times" chapter.

    This is, I think, the second or third time I've sent you one
    of these -- I should just *buy* you a copy of this book, if
    you haven't already published all of it <g>.

A few weeks later, a gift-wrapped copy of Lederer's book appeared in
my mailbox, with a note from Brett. It has made most entertaining
reading -- though I have to admit that I *have* already published a
good deal of it. And so, in the interest of promoting a book that
has already amused many of us (and is also a great gift idea for the
grammarian on your gift list):

    <http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/0941711048/
         ref=sim_books/002-2412983-3796062>

Many thanks to Brett and to everyone else who has either contributed
to The Seeing Eye or contributed to the moderator's amusement level
over the years. And with that, we will segue into the darker side of
gifting -- this year's Stupid-Gifting Hall of Shame (an annual event).

I generally open the SGHoS with an expose' from my personal gifting
experiences. This year's disclosure dates back about ten years. It
was an intentional gag gift, given to one of my managers several
years ago on his birthday. This particular manager, whom we will
refer to as "Mike," since that's his name, has the physique of Fred
Flintstone. I kid you not -- huge belly, short legs, Fred Flintstone
unshaven face. If you put him in a lineup next to the real Fred, you
would have difficulty discerning Mike from the real McCoy.

Partly as a result of this, and partly because he has an undying
sense of humour (and partly because he was so well loved within the
Laboratory), Mike used to refer to himself as the Lab's "sex symbol."

For his 40th birthday, his wife threw a surprise party for him, and
asked everyone to bring a gag gift to the party. I spent WEEKS
coming up with the ideal gag gift for Mike. And finally, it hit me.

The actual party was loads of fun, as Mike opened gag gift after
gag gift. But the gift that I gave him went down in Laboratory
history:

A Speedo bathing suit and a can of Slim-Fast.

And so we come to the subscriber-contributed part of the annual SGHoS.
This year, as always, competition was fierce; I had to sideline many
a good contribution, since there were simply So Damned Many *great*
submissions. I laid down a few arbitrary ground rules to help pare
things down a bit:

  1. Intentional gags were eliminated. (Yes, I realize that I
     violated this rule with my example, above. Consider it just
     another brazen abuse of power by the list moderator. <g>)

  2. Arguably "appropriate" gifts (gifts that were requested by
     the recipient) didn't count.

  3. Perfectly-good gifts that were messed up by the store,
     the sales clerk (etc.) were rejected.

Even with those guidelines, I still had to reject a large number of
amusing submissions, and edit down the survivors to a size that
hopefully would not cause most people's mail servers to blanch.

I think that you will find this year's SGHoS to be quite impressive.
There are still four shopping days left, so grab those gift lists
and start reading ...

Enjoy! And have a happy and safe holiday. See you in 1999.

- Vince Sabio
  HumourNet Moderator
  moderator@humournet.com
____________________________________________________________________
          Opener (above) Copyright 1998 by Vincent Sabio
  Permission is hereby granted to forward or post this "Collage";
  please observe the guidelines stated at the end of the message.
____________________________________________________________________

SUBJ: Maybe He Was Just Hinting (Take One)
Sender: Jennifer in Nashville, Tennessee

This wasn't a Christmas gift, but it has to be the all-time worst
gift ever. THIS IS NOT A JOKE.

My father is very thrifty and practical. On my 21st birthday he gave
me a burial plot at a local cemetery. He got a two-for-one sale as
part of the cemetery's grand opening. I guess it was a "get-
acquainted" kind of promotion.

I said, "Gee, thanks Dad. This will come in handy in fifty or sixty
years."

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: Maybe He Was Just Hinting (Take Two)
Sender: Rus Jeffrey, our Official HumourNet List Chaplain

Hey Vince, I can do better than that last one: A friend of mine,
a Funeral Director I used to do some work for, gave his wife a
cemetery plot on their wedding night!

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: Maybe He Was Just Hinting (Take Three)
Sender: John K.

My dad once gave my (overweight) brother one of those inflatable
cuffs for measuring blood pressure. It was used.

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: Maybe He Was Just Hinting (Take Four)
Sender: Cathie W. in Victoria, B.C., Canada

I was at a barbecue last summer where the women were discussing bad
gifts that men had purchased them. One of the women once received a
*toilet seat* from her husband for Christmas. Not JUST a toilet
seat, but a PADDED one. He was so proud.

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: Maybe He Was Just Hinting (Take Five)
Sender: Cathie W. in Victoria, B.C., Canada

The worst gift I have personally received from a man (I won't count
the microwave or coffee maker since they are used daily): A set of
ankle weights and an exercise video.

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: Maybe He Was Just Hinting (Take Six)
Sender: Pete W. in Washington, D.C.

One of my most memorable Christmas gifts was not one given to me,
but one given to my mom by my dad. As I recall, my dad often fell
short of my mom's expectations when it came to gift giving. This
year, however, things would be different. My mom was dieting and my
dad thought to order a very nice doctor's scale out of one of his
medical catalogs (he is a dentist). Not only did he order it, but he
ordered it early. My mom was surprised and excited to find a large,
heavy present for her under the tree early in the Christmas season.

The anticipation peaked that Christmas as my mom anxiously opened
the present that symbolized my dad's love for her. She was slightly
let down to find her gift was 10,000 saliva ejectors! (Those little
things a dentist hangs on your mouth to suck up spit, blood, etc...)
My dad had received the big box from the medical supply place but
had failed to carefully examine its contents before wrapping.
Whoops!

[Editor's Note: It was probably STILL better than the scale would
have been. </vs>]

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: Maybe He Was Just Hinting (Take Seven)
Sender: Kathy C. in East Hampton, Connecticut

For Christmas 1988, I received an "unusual" gift from my boyfriend:
a Mr. Seymour Butts doll, complete with suction cups, intended for
display in my car window. The idea was, when someone ticked you off
on the road, you'd squeeze a bulb and Mr. Butts would drop his pants,
mooning the offender. Thinking this was a great gift, my boyfriend
presented it to me in front of my parents and grandmother. To this
day it remains in the closet of my old bedroom, and my mother
periodically asks if I want it.

P.S. In spite of this, I married him 7 years later -- thanks to his
improved gift-giving skills and my sense of humor.

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: Maybe He Was Just Hinting (Take Eight)
Sender: Candice S. in California

The worst present I ever got was on my 16th birthday. I knew my dad
couldn't afford a car, but I was truly shocked by his horrid present.
He sent me a ten-pound smoked sausage and a bible. First of all, I'm
a vegetarian, and second, I don't believe in the bible. It wasn't
the Sweet Sixteen present I expected!

[Editor's Note: After eating a ten-pound smoked sausage, you'd
probably NEED a bible. Ergo, it was a very practical gift. Speaking
of practical gifts, you'll love this next one from Marc ... </vs>]

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: How To REALLY Impress The Bride
Sender: Marc R. in Adelphi, Maryland

I didn't do this at Christmas time, but it still fits into the worst-
gift category. I always wanted to give wedding gifts that were
practical and have some daily use.

At loss for what might be a "practical" gift for one couple about to
celebrate their nuptials, I took a suggestion from my ever-practical
mom -- and bought them a case of toilet paper! Charmin, of course,
and it smelled so good!

[Editor's Note: Clearly, the "practicality" gene is dominant in
Marc's family. </vs>]

Took two rolls of wrapping paper to cover it. (Yes, I bought both
rolls with the same pattern; do you think I have NO taste?) Needless
to say, when we got back to their house, everyone wanted to know
what was in the BIG scented box. Tearing off the wrapping paper, the
bride refused to believe the six inch high "Charmin" lettering on
the outer cardboard box -- until she peeled the covers back to stare
at 96 rolls of "squeezeably soft."

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: Revenge Can Be Sweet
Sender: Erica in Knoxville, Tennessee

[Editor's Note: Though this one falls into the category of
"intentional gag gifts," it was sufficiently amusing that I decided
to include it in this year's collection, anyway. Enjoy. </vs>]

My aunt is the *queen* of bad gifts. She always gives my father
these little knickknacks that he has no use for whatsoever. He's
always cracked jokes that one year he's going to wrap up an
inflatable life raft with the pull cord attached to the ribbon so
that, when she opens it, it inflates explosively.

This Thanksgiving when I went to visit him on my break, he made me
go shopping with him to a camping supply store; we bought the
largest inflatable life raft that we could find. It was extremely
expensive, but he was beyond the point of caring. We wrapped it up
and mailed it to her (she lives in Alaska). This Christmas morning
we got a call from her screaming and cursing that we had "broken
every freaking thing in her house" with that raft. It turns out that
she had been sitting on the floor opening presents and the raft had
exploded open, tipped the tree back against the wall, bruised her
son, and broken a vase that she had gotten for an anniversary gift.

Hey, it was a horrible gift to receive but I think it was a pretty
dang good one to give. :-)

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: Low-Fat Gift Giving
Sender: Cynthia P. in Texas

From my brother (30 years old and a money-raking hotshot at Microsoft)
to my stepmother (whom he professes to like) this Christmas -- a box
of Wheat Thins. Wrapped very prettily though; his worthless wife must
have done that part.

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: Gifts That Keep on Giving (Take One)
Sender: Dante G. in Troy, Michigan

One year, when I was younger, I had just gotten the best home game
system out at the time, and Santa had "told" my grandmother to buy
me a rather specific popular game for it. Christmas rolled around,
and my sister, my cousins, and I tore into the presents in a
traditionally ravenous manner.

Being second oldest of the clan, I opened mine first and discovered
the game that I had wanted, and I heard one of my younger cousins
mention that he had gotten the same system that I had, and was
desperately hoping for the same game. When his turn came around, he
eagerly tore open the box in anticipation, and found ... a Chia pet.
Obviously, Santa hadn't told my grandmother what to get him. My
uncle, feeling sorry for him, gave him $20, and "bought" the Chia
Pet from him, so he was at least on a start to getting his own copy
of the game. My uncle took the Chia Pet home and tossed it in a
closet somewhere.

Had this been the end of it, it wouldn't have been so bad, but alas
it was not to be. The very next year, we replayed the situation, and
as the year before, I opened my present first. That year, Santa had
again wisely informed my somewhat clueless Grandmother what she
should get, and again failed with my cousin. For the second year, he
opened his gift and found ... a Chia Pet!! I'm not kidding. We all
stood with our mouths open for a while, with my uncle asking her why
she again got him a Chia Pet when he didn't like the one from last
year. Blankfaced, she told my uncle that she found it, still in the
box, at my uncle's house, and figured that my cousin would like it.

Now, ever since, my grandmother has received that same Chia Pet
every year. We sneak in, grab it, wrap it up, and make sure to give
it to her every year. We tell her it's a joke, but secretly, we're
doing it so that none of us gets it.

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: Gifts That Keep on Giving (Take Two)
Sender: Drew K. in Cleveland

My father once worked for a guy I'll call Sal ('cause that was his
name). Dad came home from work the last day before his vacation
carrying a little red box. When he set it down on the table I saw
that it was the Old Spice Gift Box. It seems Sal hadn't bothered to
wrap it. He had just written, "To Chuck. Merry Xmas."

As I looked closer, I saw that someone *else* had actually written,
"To Sal ... etc." Sal had just crossed out *his* name, wrote in my
father's and passed the gift along.

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: Gifts That Keep on Giving (Take Three)
Sender: Anna J. in Hull, United Kingdom

When I was six or seven years old and visiting my Grandma, she took
me to a jumble sale being held at the primary school across the
road, whereupon I bought myself -- with my precious week's worth of
pocket money -- two pairs of unbelievably tacky "I-look-like-a-six-
year-old-made-me-with-some-glue-and-a-tube-of-glitter" earrings, at
25 pence per pair. I promptly left them at her house and forgot about
them.

Last Christmas, however -- this being 13 YEARS and two houses later --
I was pleasantly(?) surprised by my Grandma's gift of ... you guessed
it, a pair of blue-glittery-cost-me-25p-at-a-jumble-sale earrings. I
had no problem acting out my sheer *shock* at the gift.

She had no recollection of my having ever seen them before in my life.
I have yet to recover the other pair. Maybe in another 13 years...

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: It's The Thought That Counts (Take One)
Sender: Sharon R. in Spring Arbor, Michigan

At a recent Christmas, my grandmother proudly presented me with a
gift she thought to be valuable: It was an envelope she'd received
from Columbia House that said "Free compact disc" on it. (She
thought it contained an actual CD, not just an *offer* for one.)

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: It's The Thought That Counts (Take Two)
Sender: Erin E. in Winooski, Vermont

Last Christmas, my mother and I were out, putatively shopping for my
father and my fiancee. While perusing the Mens' section at JC Penney,
I noticed their perennial cart of stuff-no-one-bought-last-year with
several overlapping red CLEARANCE stickers. My mother moseyed over
as I was rummaging through the bin and said that there was never
anything in 'those' bins of any real value. "Au contraire," said I
as I pulled out a $45 wood-carved chess set marked down to $14.99.

Now, let me state for the record that I ONCE had a passing interest
in chess (back in grade school) and a prior attempt to get my fiancee
to learn the game was, well, (let's see ... metaphor: Hindenberg?
Titanic? Edsel/Yugo? Betamax? Custer?) uh, impressively
unsuccessful.

My dear ol' mom said that dear ol' dad had recently feigned interest
in taking the game up again and that the set would be a good, cheap
gift, so we got it.

Christmas morning: We were going through the presents quickly, and
with only a few to go I was given an oblong box that made a dampened
rattle when shook. Unsuspecting, I unwrapped it and looked at the
gift in a manner similar to the way an Eskimo might regard a set of
ice-cube trays: "Aha ... the Chess Set. Tricky, tricky, tricky," I
said. My thought: "Oh, you shouldn't have/It's just what I've always
wanted/Is it wrong to return this/What the HELL am I going to do
with this?"

All ended well, but I have this advice for you: When shopping for
others _with_ others around the holidays, make sure the people
you're with hear something akin to the following: "Yeah, Vince would
love that for Christmas. I'm not the sort of person who can make the
fish-net top work, so I wouldn't like it as a gift, but that ole
V.S. really goes for that kind of stuff!"

[Editor's Note: Just for the record, I'd like to state that I have
NEVER been able to "make a fish-net top work" -- a fact to which
anyone who has seen the pictures can readily attest. ;-) </vs>]

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: You Never Know When It'll Come In Handy (Take One)
Sender: Art W. in Alajuela, Costa Rica

I actually got a five-gallon bucket with a live lobster in it!
Wrapped, of course, with water.

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: You Never Know When It'll Come In Handy (Take Two)
Sender: Bill F. in Frederick, Maryland

I actually received a red baseball cap with a toilet paper roll on
the brim.

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: Bad Ashtrays (Take One)
Sender: Cindy S. in Huntington Beach, California

My worst gift ever was a large brass fly ashtray (I have never
smoked). The obvious question: How did I know it was an ashtray?
The obvious answer: It had a cigarette butt in it.

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: Bad Ashtrays (Take Two)
Sender: Jane H. in Decatur, Georgia

My husband and I are both researchers in public health; I work in
the cancer field, primarily studying smoking-related cancers, and my
husband works with respiratory diseases data. After a recent trip to
Mexico, his parents gave us a souvenir ASHTRAY. They noticed we
don't have any ashtrays in the house and thought it would be nice
for company.

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</collage405>