Hawkeye Pop and the Merchandise of Mystery

Christmas is coming, so I've been scanning Ebay for stuff that I don't know what it is.

You see, my dad loves nothing better than to pick up cheap, weird old things.

Merchandise, I mean. It's not like he's out there luring elderly ladies in vulture hats at flea markets, or anything...

(They'd be more than fifty-cents.)

But for the Pop, the more bizarre the item is, the more quickly it needs to come home with him. Particularly, if it's cheap. In fact, if he finds something in a quarter box of junk that he absolutely has no clue what it could be? Why, it provides hours of quality entertainment!

Like this thing. Now, on first glance, you'd think it was a paper towel holder right?...


But what's up with the row of clips at the bottom, and the holes at the top? Not quite right for restaurant order slips... Too small to hold rubber stamps... So, no idea! It's been a cipher for two years now, and he isn't using it for anything...

But, oh, how he loves to admire its brushed steel finish!

Now this jobbie-- a candy dish? nut-dish? a business card holder? something for coins?--it's another fave.


Is it a cat? A monkey? And why does it have the legs of a Vegas showgirl?

You'd have thought my dad had found ancient Egyptian treasure when he came across it, such was his unbridled joy.

All of Thanksgiving, where other families sit around mesmerized by the Macy's parade, glued to football, or just sleeping off the tryptafan-- not us. Nope, we were on Ebay, as Dad honed his keen search skillz, trying to find anything remotely similar to Leggy-Monkey-Cat Butler-- as I like to call it. Anything that might offer a clue to the origins of his glorious prize.

Now, the artwork below was another Dad-find. Part carving... part bedpost... part, er... scary wooden cudgel...? Amusingly, there's a sticker on the bottom of it that reads, "Cowboy."


I understand that art, to an artist, is all about personal interpretation. All I know is, this is not how I personally view John Wayne-- even in his waning years. If a cowboy at all, it's possibly Bubba Ho-Tep. But I somehow think the Pop won't appreciate the comparison of a b-movie horror fiend to his fine $5 folk art.

I like to put it facing the wall when I visit.

Over the years, Dad has accumulated:

• Electronic mystery meters printed in foreign languages...

• Gadgets designed to open items lost to the sands of time...

• Tools that swivel and ratchet and ding for reasons known only to innovators long-dead...

Dad says all of this will be mine someday.

And I tell him how I hope he leads a long, long, happy, healthy life. A long, long life. Really long.

Long.

Of course, some of this is mine now-- as Dad's taste for the unknown ends up having a natural runoff to me when my birthday and Christmas come around.

Each year, I ask that he not trouble himself with these gift-giving occasions. I know it's not easy, and I really don't need anything. I've given him a guilt-free pass to simply forgo the events.

But he insists.

Last year, I received a number of flat porcelain disks, with metal threading in the back of each one. Too flat to be drawer knobs and at the wrong angle for brass bed accents, I opened the box as Dad said beaming,

"I don't know what these are. But there are a lot of them."

Ah. Things like this make being specific in my thank you notes a little challenging. "Thank you for the Christmas mystery disks. I will use them for... something... once I figure out how they work, or what I can fasten them to."

The same Christmas I also received a silver snuff spoon. (No home should be without.)

This item I got for my birthday. I know what it is in theory, but...


It certainly is... different. It's a small mirror made of leather. And metal. And has a carved bone handle. The handle seems to be a dragon or possibly a snake. And, of course, there's our friend Mr. Hoot Owl on the back, with beaded eyes.

I make sure never to read aloud from any old books-- particularly anything in Latin-- around it, lest I inadvertently open up some portal to a heretofore uncontacted level of Hell.

This is my irrational fear. And I'm comfortable with that.

So, back to Ebay... I've been thinking that the perfect way of making my dad very happy for Christmas is to find the unknown.... the mysterious... the questionable... and gift them.

Just think of the hours of fun he can have on Christmas morning, opening up packages of the unfathomable and then researching them online!

And you'd be surprised just how many people on Ebay are selling things with search terms like "what is it?", "don't know what it is" or "do you know what it is?"


Why, there's a whole slew of folks out there making money off selling unidentified found objects. And that's nice to know. Because, again, someday all of this will be mine.

Oh, goody.

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Helpful Tips to What Gifting Probably Kinda Sorta Isn't

A leaking Jell-O mold wrapped in pretty paper... Sweatshirts bedazzled with love and giant furry decals of cross-eyed kittens... Dollar store Precious Moments knockoffs tied with happy bows...

When it comes to family, gifting can be... an interesting experience. So, I thought it might be helpful-- well-before the whole holiday season pressure hit-- to offer up a few tips to keep in mind when selecting that special something for those you love.

These nifty little hints have been hand-picked based on real-and-for-true moments experienced either first-hand by yours truly, or by those near and dear to me. Because, you know, you really just can't make this sort of stuff up.

Oh-- and if you have a gifting trauma-- er, story-- of your own? By all means, feel free to give us your worst. Of Cabbages and Kings is about nothing if not sharing and learning and growing. (And limiting the amount of anthropomorphic pig figurines one needs to dust each week.)

Okay, here goes:

• If your feet have been inside the Christmas socks, reconsider giving that particular pair as a gift...
  

• If you are unable to resist sharing this specific set of footwear, do not tell the recipient how much your big sweaty feet-- and those of your spouse-- enjoyed testing them out. (Most people really do prefer a lack of toe-jam over quality control.)
  

• 8-year-old boys are not inclined to get excited about shaving kilts.

• Giving someone a book they'll love is nice...
  

• Reading the book first and then presenting it, along with an hour-long lecture on its contents (complete with marked notations)? Not so much.

• When someone thanks you for a gift, try not to respond by saying, "Well, what was I going to do with it?"

• When gifting, do not tell the recipient that the gift was chosen because you would receive two FREE items that were far better than the gift itself...
  

• ...And then share how you squirreled those free items away for "emergency gifts."

• Desk blotters with calendars are more effective when the calendar is for the upcoming year.

• Everyone in the family is unlikely to want a copy of Tom Brokaw's biography, even if the bulk discount is tempting.

• If you don't know what the item is yourself, chances are, it may not be a clever gift idea.

• Always remember to remove the $0.50 sticker prior to wrapping.

• Writing someone a poem, as a gift, is thoughtful...

• Unless it's a five-page epic and you recite it...

• Twice...

• And then spend the next half hour elaborating on the lines that make it so gosh-darned brilliant...
  

• Just to make sure the recipient didn't miss the good parts.

• Reindeer typically have two antlers and two ears. If holiday reindeer earrings have just one ear and antler apiece, they are probably broken --and can't be spun to be "Christmas unicorns."

• Just because someone owns cats, doesn't mean they will get equal pleasure from a day-glo pink "I HEART my cat" t-shirt.

• A cake-mix and permission to use the stove isn't quite the same as an EasyBake Oven.
  

So, all right, folks-- those are the ones I could come up with! Now let's hear your reasons it's better to give than receive...

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A vote for Of Cabbages and Kings at Humor-blogs is better than a one-horned reindeer earring any day. Or drop down the chimney at Humorbloggers because, you know, it's so early they'll NEVER expect it.