We put lemons in everything. People are forever squeezing lemons into iced tea and every fish on earth ends up swimming in lemon juice. There are lemon tarts, lemon custard, lemon Jell-o and lemon meringue pie. We even spray lemon on our furniture. “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade” goes the aphorism. Yet, if you buy a crummy car, you’ve got a “lemon.” California even has a Lemon Law on the books. Lemon is a good fruit with a bad reputation. So, who decided lemons are the fruit of failure?
Why not raspberries?
If you give someone a “raspberry,” you’ve made your feelings known. Raspberries spoil easily, going mushy before you can even get them home, and they’re pricey. They’re even hard to spell. What’s that “p” doing in there? Leave lemons alone and pass a “Raspberry Law.”
While I’m at it, who decided chickens are the measure of cowardice?
We say these things reflexively and are universally understood. But somebody, somewhere, had to be the first person to decide a rotten car is a lemon and a coward is a chicken.
And somebody, somewhere decided the 19th wedding anniversary is “jade.” As in the gemstone, not jaded, as in divorce.
Last week, The Wife and I hit the 19-year mark. According to my exhaustive 15 second Google search, I learned the traditional 19th wedding anniversary gift is jade.
Says who?
So, I bought The Wife a dozen roses at Gelson’s along with an appropriately lovey-dovey card which I inscribed with a thoughtful line or two I had to read aloud because she couldn’t make out my handwriting even after all these years. Later, we had dinner at an over-priced Italian joint in Calabasas where we saw zero Kardashians and neither Mr. nor Mrs. Bieber. We extracted revenge for the $35 pasta entrees by drinking ice water and skipping desert and coffee. At home, The Wife presented me with an appropriately lovey-dovey card and two $20 bills, which are sort of jade-colored.
Next up is our 20th, and that means “china”, even though we already have enough dishes for a catering hall.
Most newlyweds know the first anniversary is “paper,” which is a not too subtle hint cash is expected. The 2nd anniversary is cotton, which most guys interpret as sexy lingerie because, frankly, we don’t care about pillow cases and dish towels. The 3rd anniversary is “leather”, which could be kinky but usually means a pair of loafers or a new wallet. Then we get into a lot of really weird gifts like “iron” for the 6th anniversary, “tin or aluminum” for the 10th, and “tools” for the 29th, because nothing says, “I love you” like a socket wrench.
Undoubtedly, these recommendations have evolved over the years. In olden days, a cow or goat was considered a primo wedding gift; and what young couple would turn down a new butter churn? I asked The Wife if she’d like a goat but she said she already has one.
Odder than the recommended gift items themselves is our devotion to lists. If it’s on a list on the internet or People magazine, somehow it becomes official, the way “National Donut Day”, “Left-Handed Day” and “Hug Your Shih Tzu Day” has us posting and reposting on Facebook and Instagram. Frankly, as far as I’m concerned, every day is donut day.
We’re groomed from childhood to obey these lists. Who hasn’t written a Christmas list for Santa? The seeds are planted. Next, we’re buying books from “Best Seller” lists, checking the “Top-10” box office films, and seeing if our Body Mass Index conforms to government standards.
At this stage of my life, I’m reconciled to never making the “Sexiest Man Alive” list and concentrate instead on staying off the “You-know-What-List” every husband lands on when he forgets his anniversary.
Doug McIntyre’s column appears Sundays. He can be reached at: Doug@DougMcIntyre.com.
"many" - Google News
July 11, 2021 at 09:00PM
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Our culture of too many lists - LA Daily News
"many" - Google News
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