COLIN HOGG
COLIN FEARS FOR THE FUTURE OF HIS BIRTHDAY PRESENTS
Irecently celebrated a birthday. Not a major one; however, at my age every birthday feels like a major one. But no-one else much seemed to think it was major at all, though my old friend Bruce came all the way from Auckland to have dinner with me.
He has a birthday two weeks after mine and so we generally try to do something to celebrate. Once we got so carried away we went to Melbourne, but we’re more restrained these days. We’re so restrained that Bruce asked if it would be alright if we didn’t bother exchanging presents this year.
I agreed, but only with my mouth not my heart, which was slightly broken at the suggestion. I feel strongly that the best thing about birthdays is the gift giving. I’m not the sort of birthday boy who says, “Don’t bother with a present.”
I’ve been known to throw myself a birthday party just so I’ll get a pile of pressies. It’s really about the only thing that makes getting older any fun at all. Though, again, I don’t appear to have a lot of support for this point of view.
When this latest birthday was swiftly approaching, my darling wife asked what I might like in the way of a present, but she asked it in a tone that gave me the feeling she wasn’t thinking of something big and expensive.
We’d just spent quite a bit of cash on a new high-tech sound system, so I suggested we could think of that as my birthday present, but my beloved wasn’t having any of that. It was “far too expensive,” she said.
“But we’ve already bought it,” I said, a little confused. Though it could be that she was worried about lifting expectations on the budget for future birthday pressies. Which is a pity.
Mum sent me money, the same amount she gives to her grandkids I think. One of my six kids sent me a nice box of beer and another got me some hand cream (“for kitchen hands” it said on the label). The others texted or phoned, but no presents.
Sam [Hunt] forgot my birthday again. He’s been trying to remember it for 30 years now with a complete lack of success. I always remember his and send him something. There would be unhappiness if I didn’t and it’s not like he lets me forget.
Bruce, in the end, did buy me something, as did my darling, so things are back on an even keel there, but there’s no doubt that the tide is going out on birthday presents. Each year, there’s a little less excitement. If it goes on like this, I’ll have to start buying my own presents and try to look surprised when I open them.
On the plus side, it’s good to have a birthday in spring when the world is blooming with hope and the garden is full of flowers. As I look out the window, there’s a fat kereru (recently voted New Zealand Bird of the Year) hanging low on a branch, eating its greedy way through the flowers on the cherry blossom tree.
And I can almost smell Christmas in the air.