Finally, old coots like me get to cash in on gift registries! We missed out, “back in the day,” when we had our weddings. Guests gave us what they wanted to give. Everyone lugged a fancy wrapped package to the reception and added it to a pyramid like pile on the gift table. The groom was stuck with getting them home, often pulling out from the curb at the end of the reception in a car loaded with boxes of loot. The car itself was gift wrapped, in “Just Married” signs, ribbons, bows and a string of rattling tin cans dragging from the back bumper.
The packages were opened in private, so nobody would know that someone else gave you the same gift they did. You often ended up with six toasters, two steam irons, five electric percolators and a mishmash of everyday and special occasion household items in duplicate, triplicate, quadruplicate. But, it wasn’t really a problem. All the unwanted and unneeded items went into the hall closet. A treasure chest of sorts, to be drawn upon for future weddings, showers and house warming parties. It was a great system, except for when you mistakenly gave an item back to the original giver (and their name was on a card you missed inside the box, hidden under the tissue paper).
Then some accountant came along and invented the gift registry; to bring into balance the gifts received side of the ledger with the gifts desired side. (It had to be an accountant, don’t you think?) People could then pick out their own gifts. Invitees were required to go to the store or the web site indicated on the invitation and select something, setting up a frantic race of old coots to get there first and nail down the cheapest item. The groom is no longer responsible for getting the presents from the reception to the couples home; the retailer takes care of that, sometimes including a stack of hand written (fake of course) thank you notes for the couple to put in the mail when they get back from their honeymoon.
Some of us old coots still have unused coffee pots, toasters and the like, kicking around in the back of our hall closets. Items we never got the chance to re-gift, and never will. But at least we can get in on the gift registry scam. It’s now available to people of my vintage, designed for the important milestones of our autumn years: hip, knee and shoulder replacements, heart stents, gall bladder extractions and the like. I received one such invitation from my friend Ken, in South Carolina. He’s having ankle surgery and the invitation to “wish him well” asked that we not send flowers or candy, but to select something from his gift registry account at www.IfinallygetwhatIwant.com. I checked the box next to a two-pack of ace bandages. (It was the cheapest thing on the list.) All his items medical related. I’m going the other way with my registry; it won’t contain any therapeutic items like Ken’s did. I’ll load mine with happy things that old coots appreciate: Snicker’s bars, Oreo cookies, Hostess cupcakes, ice cream and dry red wine. I almost can’t wait for a new ailment to strike so I can send out, “I’m sick,” cards with gift registry details.
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