Experience Vs. Material

Here we are, less than a week until Christmas day.  I am off of work the rest of the year after a packed month of multiple Christmas productions stretched across multiple venues.  I am tired.  I am broken.  I am grateful.  I am reflective...

Shopping Shopping Shopping!

It has been a few years since I noticed a huge shift in my gift giving and wish lists.  Growing up, I was fortunate.  My parents and grandparents always asked for a Christmas list (and they still do.) that I took great pride in creating.  As a grew older and word processing software grew more capable, I would decorate my list with a holiday border, fancy fonts, and decorative clip-art.

The list was often more exciting than its contents.

As a child, I asked for toys and the occasional pair of pants my mom made me write down.

As a teenager, I asked for the $60 shoes I would never get the other 364 days a year and a video game.

As a young adult, I asked for clothes, things to furnish my apartment, and groceries because I was poor.

I am in my late thirties now and married so we do pretty okay for ourselves.  Sure, I won't spend money on new pans I need so the occasional necessity makes it to the wish list my parents still ask me to write.  Mostly though, I don't, any longer, want material gifts.  My house is full.  My walls are decorated.  My clothing mostly fits my large gut.

More than anything, I now look for experiences.  Take me out for a beer or five and let's chat.  Take me to the zoo or to Magic Mountain.  Take me out to lunch.  Hell, let's go on a hike together.

Why?

Two reasons...

Number 1:  As I grow older, the realization of mortality creeps into my mind.  I smoked for years and I don't exactly eat well.  Call them burdens of the industry I have worked in for 19 years.  I keep strange hours and do stupid shit like climb truss without a harness to adjust the DMX address on a moving light.  I have had colleagues break arms, have heart attacks, and earn lifelong injuries.  That being said, I realize at some point, I will be on a deathbed (which may very well be the stage after a 30 foot fall) and while I am there, I won't have my new video game or that piece of art from my wall.  I will have my memories so I want to make as many of those as possible.

Number 2:  Giving me an experience is a gift for both of us.  You like beer.  You like Magic Mountain.  You like the zoo and hiking and horseback riding and lunch.  Giving me the gift of hanging out with you also gives you the excuse to do those things you might not otherwise budget for.

This mentality has translated to how I give gifts.  My wife and I used to scramble to figure out what to buy my parents for Christmas.  They buy everything they need or want because they are hardworking adults that have paychecks.  So what to do?

One year, it just clicked.  We bought them tickets to a brew festival (and by extension we bought those tickets for ourselves too) and the gift was an experience to share.  Since then, I think that's all we do.  We gift experiences to them.  Not only do they get some beer or a trip or a meal, but WE get to share that with them and that's a memory for all of us.

Sometimes gifting an experience is not possible so I may buy someone a bottle of their favorite booze because I know they will build new experiences and memories from that drink.

The point is, memories are eternal currency and I plan to be very, very rich.

Merry Christmas to you and a Happy New Year.  I hope 2017 finds you and I and a bottle of suds with a smile, a story, and a bout of laughter.