Oh, Tom, you shouldn’t have. No I mean really, you shouldn’t have. I’m working hard on a joke here reagarding what would be the gifting equivalent over here and, you know, there’s nothing, really. Well, the collected DVD of my acting career would at least make him chuckle. Which is pretty much the one line from the short film I was in that no one saw, in which I played a salesgirl: “Don’t you want your (excruciatingly overlong actory pause) – change?” Or I could give him the gift of all my diaries, but then he’d have to suffer through entries like this:
August 22, 1977. Here I am listening to Barry Manilow on the stereo. … Then out of one of the bedrooms comes John R., another lifeguard and a friend of Nina’s. Nina introduces us and he greets me not with a hi or hello but a ‘how ya doin.’… I met Danny P., who’s from Florida. He came off as a little too cool for me though. I guess. He greeted me with a ‘how ya doin’ also.
Okay, clearly at the appalling age of sixteen, I was yet unfamiliar with the greeting, “How ya doin,” and this is only one extremely brief moment in the life of E. Crane that I’d just assume not subject my husband to, especially, you know, as a gift. Because there are over a hundred volumes of this, and I’d like to say they get more sophisticated over the years, but really, not so much. I’ve always been a late, late bloomer.
The point is, there’s no equivalent.