(Ed: This weekend I recorded the podcast which will go up on October 28th. I realized that the next one I record will run the first weekend of November and I wanted to do something Christmasy. So I pulled this old column out and expanded it a bit. Enjoy!)
Halloween is over and that means that there are only about fifty more hinting days until Christmas. I personally began my hinting campaign in late July. There’s no sense in leaving these things to the last minute.
The important thing about hinting is that it has to be subtle.
For some perverse reason, family members refuse to buy the gifts you really want. You could stand in the middle of the living room daily and say, “I’d really like an argyle sweater for Christmas,” but it wouldn’t do any good. You could take out full-page ads in large metropolitan newspapers explaining that somebody might get hurt if you don’t get your sweater, and it would make your family all the more determined to buy you something else.
On the other hand, if you only once mention that you kind of like the Beer Barrel Polka, you’ll find a dozen CDs by Yodel and the Accordion Meisters under the tree.
That’s why you have to hint.
The idea is to convince your kin that what they are buying you was entirely their idea. Remember, your entire family is pathologically dependent on hearing you say, “It’s just what I wanted. How did you know?”
Since direct threats are out, you have to find an indirect way to make your wishes known. One good solution is to use a catalog.
You can’t just tear out a page, circle the item you want, and secure it to the fridge with a pizza magnet. Take great care and lay the open catalog casually on the coffee table. You might want to surround it with magazines or even bury it beneath a few. No matter how much effort it requires, make it look as if the catalog was carelessly dropped.
Sooner or later someone will come along, pick up the catalog, and say, “That’s a nice sweater.”
Now is your chance to strike! Still behaving nonchalantly you say, “The argyle? It’s only $24.95. That’s a good price, particularly when you consider the fine workmanship. The colors are exquisite. Not that I’m interested in it, mind you. I’m just making conversation.”
If your family members don’t immediately call the men from the state hospital to come fit you for an all-white sports coat with extra-long sleeves, there’s a chance you’ll get the sweater.
Newspaper advertisements can be used much the same as catalogs. With a little creativity, you can work an ad into your breakfast conversation.
“Well, well, well,” you’ll say looking up from the paper with an expression of surprise on your face, “Costington’s department store is having a sale on argyle sweaters. Fancy that. Good prices, too. Can’t imagine what possessed Costington’s to have a sale on argyle sweaters.” The few family members who don’t feel that your brain is a quart low may well write “argyle sweater” on their lists.
Your computer can be a prime piece of hint-making equipment. Just surf to any major retailer’s website and find the sweater you want. Leave the browser open to that page. Anyone who walks past will see the sweater and think, “That idiot forget to shut down the browser again.”
You’ll only have to repeat this fifty or sixty more times before they get the hint. Or maybe they’ll decide there’s some weird sweater virus in your system and wipe the hard drive clean. It’s a risk you’ll have to take.
Another good technique is to take your family shopping and comment on the items you are interested in. You start by casually announcing that you’re headed to the department store and anybody who wants to stay on your good side is welcome to come along. Once you arrive, adopt the air of forced casualness usually associated with chronic shoplifters. Wander the store looking randomly at items until it’s time to leave. On your way out, you’ll just happen to notice the sweaters. “Wow,” you’ll say, “look at these sweaters. They sure are nice. Look at those colors. And they’re only $24.95!”
Stroke the sweater lovingly and maybe even given a little sigh. You want your family to understand that the sweater is your heart’s desire. If the floor detectives don’t haul you off, you’re sure to get the sweater.
Some people try to avoid all of these problems by eliminating the middleman. Why get someone else to buy me what I want, they think, when I can buy it for myself? A quick trip to the store and I’ll have just what I want in the right color and perfect size.
It seems logical, but believe me it won’t win you any friends. Ever since the great sports car flap of ’96 I’ve stopped buying gifts for myself. It was the right color (red) and size (six cylinder), but I was surprised to discover that my wife had an issue with the fact that I’d gotten myself a gift. She even refused to give me the CD collection she’d bought for me – The Power Ballads of the Polka Kings.
If things get desperate – Christmas is fast approaching and you’ve seen no evidence of the gift you most desire – you might have to engage an ally. Children work well for this purpose. Your own if they’re young enough, the neighbors’ if need be, or paid child actors in extreme cases. All they have to do is go to a likely member of your family and lisp out, “An awgile sweata would be a nice pweasent for Daddy.” A presentation that cute is utterly irresistible. Just to be sure you might prime the kid by giving them a catalog, newspaper ad or web address to hand over at just the right moment.
If none of these ideas do the trick, you could always fall back on asking directly. Who knows? It might work. After all, your family loves you and wouldn’t want to upset you–particularly since you’ve been behaving so strangely lately.
