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by Audrey Ference
“A nice thing to do.” How can you argue against doing nice things for a person you like? You really can’t. Feeling like the Grinch during the heart-grows-three-sizes scene, I realized that perhaps it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility that couples might give each other presents not because of capitalist brainwashing, but because they like to be generous with their partners. That, just maybe, what you do for each other isn’t as important as why and how you do it.
Frank and I agreed then to buy each other something special and, you know, meaningful. A thing that the other person would really want to have. Which, it turns out, is an odd combination of more and less sappy than just grabbing an off-the-shelf plush from Snuggles Unlimited. More sappy because you have to put a lot of thought into delighting someone you love, and less sappy because you’re not doing anything that would make my sister say “Awww.” So when Frank gave me the nose ring he had picked out, and I gave him a signed comic book, it did feel like we were doing something nice for each other, and with very little associated saccharin.
It’s possible to find a happy medium between sticky sweet and bitterly repressed. Here’s an example involving people other than me: A few years back, my friends Josh and Karen announced that they had decided to get married. My initial reaction was to be highly skeptical about the whole thing. Not because of the commitment—they’d been living together for years and were really good for each other. No, I was bothered by the inherent lameness of having a wedding.
I had only ever been to big, puffy, expensive bridezilla-type ceremonies, with the lurid bridesmaids’ dresses and the crazy parents-in-law and the single women brawling over the bouquet. Why, I wondered, would people I respected want to put themselves through that kind of misery? It had never occurred to me that at your wedding you can do whatever the hell you want.
Rather than a church and a minister, Josh and Karen had a kick-ass outdoor spot and an old friend officiating. In lieu of “Wedding March,” Karen walked down the “aisle” to “Green Onions” by Booker T. and the MG’s. Instead of the uptight, buttoned-up ceremony I had been expecting, they had thrown themselves a weekend-long party with all of their best friends and family, and it was wicked fun. Everyone seemed genuinely happy for them and happy to be there.
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1 Anonymous // Jul 2, 2006 at 6:53 pm
I understand completely what the author is saying in this piece. I was (and still am) against the traditional, sappy romantic gestures. It just seem so over the top and redundant. I’ve learned that romance can mean whatever you want it to–even if that means exchanging body jewerly for the holidays