The art of choosing presents

One of my favourite TV series ever was 'Frasier', the 'Cheers' spin-off that, for me, far exceeded the accomplishments of its parent. Part of my enjoyment was the wonky parallel between Frasier, his brother, Niles, and his father, Marty, and me, my brother and our father. Our dad - a solid, hard-working, football-loving, working class, Londoner - also had to deal with two sons who had thrived on the opportunities he gave them, only find that it left them on the far side of a cultural chasm that, thankfully - and like the characters in 'Frasier' - was ultimately bridged by a strong familial love.

In one episode, Niles berates his brother for buying their father a present on the basis of what Frasier thought Marty *should* like, rather rather than what he would like. Coincidentally, some time many, many years ago, my brother made the same comment about me. Of course, I was initially irritated and offended but, as is so often the case in the matter of home truths, once I'd calmed down and thought about it, I realised he was right.

Since then, and after trying very hard, I think I have, to some degree, learned to give good presents. Part of that is by paying attention to what people like and do, which, of course, is easier, the longer and better you know them, but the bigger part is in listening. It's funny how often people will tell you they like something. 

These crafted animal coat hooks are a good example. They were made by the wife of the owner of Avanti in Kirkby Lonsdale, and put up on the wall for sale. One evening, as Milly was serving us, she mentioned that she really liked the one that consisted of a cat with a mouse sat on its head. So, this evening, I bought it. Andy, the owner, was up for a bit of intrigue and stealthily took it down and bagged it up for me, leaving me to smuggle it past Milly on our way out.