Grasping the concept of age appropriateness, or any
appropriateness is not the strength of a true bachelor. Invite a lifelong
single guy to a classy party and he is just as likely to bring a half-consumed
case of beer as he is a bottle of wine for dinner or a token of appreciation for
the host. Sit a bachelor at a table of business executives and he will most
likely find humour in passing gas. Ask him to find a decent restaurant for a female
friend’s twentieth anniversary, and he will suggest Hooters. But leave him to
choose an ideal gift for a child, and you will see such a variation among options
that you will assume he has no clue as to the age, sex, interests or
capabilities of the recipient.
Cliff epitomized cluelessness. At his sister’s wedding, he
had been put in charge of the speeches, since the best man was more inept at
public speaking than he was. When he introduced his sister’s most recent sexual
partner – not “boyfriend” – there was a groan from the attendees and a flushed
face from his sister, as well as new brother-in-law. But when he introduced the head table, and
announced that the in-laws were not as bad as his sister had told him they
were, the mood turned decidedly sour.
His comment about the new husband being too lazy to earn as much as
Cliff’s sister, although made in jest, was the flash in the gunpowder that set
off a brawl requiring six police officers to resolve, and concluded with the
arrest of the bride and two others. Cliff
could not understand why she was upset with him for almost a year afterward.
His gift-giving, though, was Cliff’s bachelor strength. The
negligee that he gave his older sister for Christmas (the single, almost
40-year-old one, not the new bride) shocked those that did not understand his
inept ability to understand finesse or propriety. The box of Toffifee for his
father, a diabetic who wore false teeth, got a laugh, as did the Depend adult
underwear for his mother (who used them, but did not make it public
knowledge). It was, after all, Cliff. But he saved his best, literally, for his nephew.
Garett was five. He
was a peculiar five, destined, no doubt, to be a star bachelor when his time
arrived. He had, after all, at the age
of four, pirated a severed extension cord from his father’s tool cabinet, and
attached it to the terminals of his battery-operated toy guitar, before
plugging it in. He, too, displayed the
unique vision of a future single guy, helping his dad to paint the house. More correctly, he painted the barbeque, the
patio door glass and his father’s friend’s car with brown stain, before his
parents could intercede. Garett was
justifiably proud of his artistry. His
father and father’s friend were less impressed.
So, although Cliff demonstrated ham-fistedness, bordering on
deluded, in his gift selection, he inadvertently set Garett on an irreversible
career path toward mechanics. On Garett’s fifth birthday, Cliff arrived with a
brand new, high-quality, quite expensive 120 piece socket and tool set,
suitable for a professional automobile technician. Without exception, all adults at the party,
including every married man, knew that Cliff had missed the mark badly.
Garett, too, timourously ripped the wrap off his present, but
when he managed to open the hasp on the tool case, all other gifts were
abandoned, as he gently lifted each piece out of its spot in the set, examined
it carefully before returning it to its spot and retrieved the next. Even
without anything on which to use the tools, he was enraptured by the
potential. Cliff, always the butt of
laughter when his gifts were opened, beamed with pride.
Cliff had an act to follow, now. Everyone had to acknowledge that the gift
had, indeed, been perfect. Garett used
the tools to “fix” his sidewalk bicycle, then to “repair” the garden hose
connections, and also to “tighten” the screws in the cupboard door, until the
hinge fell away. He managed to “adjust”
the garage door safety wands until the garage would not close properly. Garett had become Mister Fix-it overnight,
and he was in heaven. It was all thanks to his uncle.
Four months later, Christmas. Cliff needed to best himself,
and he did. Two gifts, in one: a broken 3 horsepower lawn mower engine, and an
assortment of nuts, bolts, pieces of drilled iron and an assortment of wheels,
gears and miscellaneous small parts. Garett would be kept busy assembling,
inventing, repairing and dismantling until he turned six.
Obviously, no one knows a potential bachelor like another
single guy. Cliff had found his calling.
