When I was growing up in India I remember being gifted an odd piece of cloth by an older relative. That oft came with instructions to use it as a input for what would become a shirt or trouser. Thus the onus to convert raw material to finished good was left on the giftee. The giftor merely showed up with a certain rectangle of their choosing in terms of color or fabric and divined that the gifted gleefully accept this gesture of generosity.
I found this proces retarded and somehow arbitrary. What if I needed was a good bicycle or a pair of socks instead? The idea of gift cards for generic stores was yet to reach Indian shores. Today one could get a gift card to appear politically correct and hand it to the giftee and let the have free rein on whether to buy tobacco, guns or a shirt with the funds.
Of course certin smart elders just handed me cash. I respect that. For one they believed that I knew what cash was and how it could be used. Also it left me to choose the outcome of the cash to suit my desire as a rceipient of the gift rather than their old age whim.
Going back to the idea of getting a cloth stitched cracks me up to this day. Who in their right mind allows a strange man to touch you in all the wrong parts of your anatomy outside of a TSA agent? This with the suspect hope that his skills will produce a garment for your wearing pleasure. That is what I never understood about my favorite hero 007. For one who wears a suit to the bedroom containing an exotic and mesmerizing female? Now you have to come up with witty dialog to bed the gal and also get rid of all that excessive Saville Row clothing. Talk about inefficient style from someone that has to be quick on their feet and mind.
Here is another essay on the subject of first names. As in birth names. Or names provided to an offspring at birth. While the developed world tends to shy away from the exotic like Refrigerator or Coca Cola for their new production there is a plethora of Jims and Johns and Bobs or Robs. Speaking of which I do not think there is a categoric decision point at the time of birth if a child will be hereafter called as Bob. I mean have not yet met a toddler called Bob or Rob for that matter. At some point though the parental instinct to mouth out multiple syllables runs out and they switch from calling the crawler Robert to simply Robbie to Rob. Now speaking of - it is strange that the name sounds like something you would not want Rob to do - i.e. Rob anyone. Then why call someone that? After all Rob Peter to Pay Paul is not exactly a maxim to live a young life? Is it? Perhaps Peter or Paul might want to have a say in it? Then there is this matter of going to the John. Why degrad...
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