Maybe this is part of our national credit problem.

December 22, 2007

Matthew Weiner, the creator of Mad Men, has a short piece in the Times on the subject of gift giving. It’s pretty funny, but this part kind of blew me away:

The problem with gifts is the expectation — the truth is that one good experience can ruin you for life. For me it was two years into my marriage. I had graduated from film school and was living without a job, writing every day (or at least saying I was) and being supported by my wife’s starting architect salary and a small stipend from her mom.

My birthday came, and the gift I wanted was to be shot in the back of the head while I slept — to be mercifully put out of my misery before I gained any more weight or finished the extremely depressing movie I was writing.

My wife handed me a large, very heavy flat box. Inside was a silver Zero Halliburton briefcase.

Now, if you missed the ’80s, let me explain what this was. It was the ultimate briefcase. It was the one you saw in the movies, carried by Feds, moguls, guys in sports cars, drug dealers. It was the kind that was filled with rows of hundreds and then handcuffed to somebody’s wrist. I had admired one in a window at the mall. My wife had clocked that and delivered. It cost $300. Our rent was $800 a month.

It was so extravagant, so ridiculous, so desired. I was speechless. My wife knew what I wanted. I wanted to feel successful. I wanted to go somewhere everyday with my papers in that gleaming hand-held Learjet.

When I saw that gift, I knew that no matter what I felt like, she somehow saw me as the kind of person who carried that thing. She somehow saw me as a success. And yes, there were hugs and kisses and tears.

I don’t know why, exactly, but this rubs me the wrong way. The extravagant, ostentatious gift, given at a time when they apparently could have used the money better? It is a very nice thought, and as we all know it ended up all working out in the end, but it still seems like an odd exemplar of a great gift. I mean, if you’re ever thinking about spending 1/3 of your rent on a gift for me while you’re getting financial support from your mom, please reconsider. It’s the thought that counts—just knit me a pink oven-mitt.

In related news, I thought the Apatow/Mann contribution to the Times’s gift guide thing was pretty hilarious.

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