Be Kind

Pressing play on the best birthday present

You know that trait you have that you go a little overboard being proud of? You’re not wrong about it – you’re good at whatever it is. But when someone points it out, you start to puff up a little like Ted Baxter on the Mary Tyler Moore show, eyelids aflutter with false modesty. Well, now, THIS old thing? This signature trademark of mine? Oh, gosh, why, it’s nothing.

I’m like that about gift giving. This hasn’t been an easy boast to live up to, being broke most of my life, but even at my stoniest I was able to remember that song you liked six months ago at the restaurant and show up at your house with the record out of nowhere one day. Exactly the right toy or book for your kid? Psshhht. Who you talkin’ to, son? Having an eye for that painting or t-shirt that makes you gasp when you open the bag gives me more inordinate swagger than any meal I’ve cooked or phrase I’ve turned.

So it packed an extra wallop when my son got me a Bluetooth Walkman for my birthday. Not only is it probably the most laser-focused Keith-appropriate gift in its tax bracket, but holy shit I passed the torch! And not just for executive dysfunction and unreasonable stubbornness!