Yes Billy Bob, There is a Santa Clause

My sister is a great gift giver.

(By the way, I have two sisters. So, dear readers, don't assume that when I say "my sister", I am always speaking of she who now blogs. Although I almost always am. But she doesn't need to know that, because I have sung her praises far to often and loudly recently and little sisters with fat heads can be highly irritating, even when they are grown women.)

Anyway, she always manages to find that perfect thing, even on a budget. Her gifts always make a person feel as if she searched the ends of the earth to find exactly that which you most needed and wanted.

Last Christmas she gave me a mug. You might consider that a somewhat impersonal gift; something one might give to their secretary or the post man. But this mug was one of those design it yourself deals, and it bore a painting by one of my favorite artists, and a quote by one of my favorite authors. The subject of both, was one of my most fervent passions.

Study At A Reading Desk, by Lord Frederic Leighton



"The person, be it gentleman or lady, who has not the pleasure of a good novel, must be intolerably stupid"
~Jane Austen

See what I mean?

Husband is a good gifter too. One year shortly after we were married, he stood in line for six hours at a book signing to get a first edition signed by my then favorite author, Anne Rice. Although my tastes have matured a lot since then, it is still one of my most treasured posessions, because Husband is not a reader. And yet he understood what a gift like that would mean to me, and went to great lengths to procure it.

I did not get the gifting gene. My gift choices, while well intentioned, are usually pretty uninspired.

But every once in a while, I have a stroke of gifting genius. And because those instances are fairly infrequent, when I cannot bring an idea to fruition, it really chaps my ass.

Years ago, my father in law (we'll call him "Billy Bob" because otherwise my title makes absolutely no sense) mentioned that he would like to find a Buddy L Co-Cola truck like the one he had when he was a boy.

(In actuality, it is about the size of a matchbox car.)

Billy Bob grew up in a small rural Southern town. Like many families in that town, his did not have a great deal of money. The posessions they had were fiercely prized and abandoned only when they could no longer be patched up or cobbled together.

HE played with his precious truck until it was little more than a hunk of dented, twisted steel. He doesn't recall what happened to it, but he recalls how much he loved it. It was a gift from his Daddy, who has been gone for many years now, but the mention of whom still brings tears to his eyes.

I decided it would be a real hoot if I could find one for him.

Little did I know that Co-Cola trucks were only yellow for a few years, and so, original toy vehicles from that era are extremely rare and highly sought after.

I found quite a few on ebay, but I watched in shock and amazement as the bid on auction after auction soared far higher than I could ever afford. One, in mint condition with all the original coke trays and the original dolly sold for over $500. I've seen them go for over $100 even in very, very poor condition, with paint flaking and wheels missing and axles buckling.

I resigned myself to the fact that I would likely never be able to grant him his wish.

But still, on occasion, I would check, just to see if I might get lucky.

Yesterday, I got lucky.

Some hapless yard saler who obviously did not know what he had found, put one up for auction with a Buy it Now of SEVENTY DOLLARS and nobody had bid on it. Just to give you some perspective, the one pictured above was listed on an antique dealer's site for $185. The one I purchased is in much, much better condition, although it's missing the Coke cases. Those can be purchased fairly inexpensively though, so I'm not too concerned.

I just don't stumble across bargains like that. I am the anti-bargain. Seriously. And people will almost always pay more for the thing I am after than I ever even thought about paying.

So to say that I was excited would be a huge understatement. Truth be told, I was just about peeing in my pants.

I had a good gift idea and it finally panned out. It took like...seven years, but who's counting? YAY.

I can't wait to see his face when he opens it. And I hope it means as much to Billy Bob to get the truck as it means to me to be able to give it to him. It's not a useful thing. It's not a beautiful thing. It's not a thing that will cure his baldness or give him back his youth. But maybe, it will make is seem a little less distant for a moment or two.

I would like to hear from you. What was the best gift you ever got? What was the best gift you ever gave? Why was it the best? What did it mean to you?