Grand gesture, part 1

I have a friend who’s looking for a job. Since I’m surrounded by academic types, online and off, he’s going through the same process as many of you. And it can be a long, miserable process. Carefully building confidence so you can interview properly, then watching it get sucked away as things don’t work out. Exhausting.

In addition, though we haven’t been in close touch throughout, said friend is having one of those years. Problems – some minor, some major – seem to pop up with greater frequency than is warranted in his near past, and I find myself feeling badly – wondering why the world seems to smile on some and torture others, even in the short term.

I frown over it – not really worried, because John’s a capable guy. He’ll handle all this crap and figure out where to go from here. But I’m bothered that someone who’s so clearly smart, talented, cute and kind can be overlooked by the more pleasant side of luck. Because, well, why?

John was on my mind during my Tuesday morning commute about a week ago. Caught in a snarl of traffic, inching forward, feeling the rise of irritation because increased volume shouldn’t prevent any and all forward motion. But little Chandler continued to play music, and then there was a song I liked, followed by a little excerpt from Bob and Tom that made me giggle. Since I’m apparently like a raccoon with a shiny toy, I was distracted from John by the joy I found in my little iPod.

But he captured my attention again as I walked through the balmy morning toward my office. I’d decided on a gift somewhere between there and here, and was completely charmed by the idea. I spun ideas of how it would look, what could go with it in the box, what I’d write on the card. I love sending people stuff – I just think it’s really cool. But I often falter between an idea I love and actually putting something in mail.

I’ll decide it’s often too much. That my brilliant idea has the potential to cause discomfort in its extravagance rather than pleasure at finding such a cool present waiting for you one day when you arrive home. Because some circumstances call for grand gestures. When life is garbage, and I want to provide a reminder of the potential for great happiness, the present should be good.

For whatever reason, I didn’t falter in my plan this time. It made me so happy to picture it that I desperately wanted to see its transfer from imagination to reality. So I got to my desk, quickly ordered 2 things online, and gleefully plotted what else I would include.

I needed to get a box, I mused, not remembering where I had shipping materials in my new house. So there was the gift, then this important accessory item, and I had something else at home that I never used that would also be perfect, so I’d include that too. Plans lingered in the back of my mind all day – through meetings, irritations, experiments, conversations – and brought me a great deal of anticipated joy.

I left work a little early. Went to Target. Found a really good card, carefully selected the appropriate box, then walked by gift wrap. I wrinkled my nose – wrapping the individual pieces seemed less classy then leaving them settled in the box to be viewed immediately. Then I smiled and stood on tip-toe to reach one last item.

A tiny girl with short, dark hair checked me out. My box, packing tape, and card were placed quickly in a plastic bag.

“That’s a big red bow!” She said, smiling at me. “What are you going to do with it?”

“It’s going in the box.” I smiled back, and when she looked confused, I elaborated.

“I ordered an iPod for a friend, and the bow will go with it when I send it along.”