A broken gift may be the best

4/4/2006

My first car was a real hunk of junk.

It was plain, cheap, and in need of some tender care. Looking back, that was probably the point.

There is an old school of thought that suggests when a person asks for a particularly large or complex gift, one they may not be totally ready for, you should make sure it doesn’t actually work.The idea is, if the individual wants it badly enough, they will invest the time and energy it takes to learn about it, understand it, and go about repairing it. If they are still in the game at that point, you can bet they will take care of it as well.

Many a young person has begged for their first motorcycle, or car, or jet airplane, or whatever; only to be given a dilapidated, rusted-out, heap of nuts and bolts that one day, given enough time, will become that car, or bike, or interplanetary shuttle.Many a young person has spent their waking hours tinkering away on something they will one day be proud to show their friends and family.

I just wanted a hunk of junk to get from point A to point B and, if the stars and planets were properly aligned, back again. Sometimes, it did.

Frivolous accessories such as hub caps, a rear bumper, accurate speedometer, windshield wipers, and functioning brakes, were seen as needless luxuries, so long as the machine was operational.When the vehicle really started to go downhill, which I still contend was the very day it rolled off the assembly line, the rear windshield wiper rusted out and escaped somewhere on the open road.

Oddly enough, the washer fluid mechanism still worked, and when we tried filling the reservoir with beer and using it to dispense drinks in the back, it never really lost the bitter hint-of-antifreeze taste.All the project probably required was a little more tinkering and thought, but enough time, energy and tender care had already been invested in the car. It was time to move on, to bigger and better things, to a new-but-not-too-new way to get around.

My nephew recently turned 10-years-old. Double digits, if you’ll remember, is a pretty big deal, and any young person who makes it through their first decade deserves more than a pair of pyjamas, a new video game, or a case of root beer.

At 10-years-old, he has already begun to think big, and is looking ahead to his first dirt bike, chainsaw, compound bow, and compound fracture.

I’m thinking it may be time to take the big step, to find him a gift that he can learn about, work on, and, given enough time, take pride in owning.

His dad already rides a motorcycle, so a two-wheeled relic might be just the thing they can fix together. He likes to fish, so an old outboard motor might do the trick. Then again, I will probably play it safe and get him a puppy—with a limp.