COLUMN: Anniversary

I don't often use this platform for personal favors, but I need everyone to chip in on this one.

Right now, I need you all to turn to the south, give a hearty wave, and send well wishes in the direction of my parents. This week, they're celebrating fifty years of wedded bliss. This is no easy task, considering much of that time was spent with yours truly as the pesky third wheel in their romantic fairy tale. I'm told gold is the traditional 50th anniversary present, and that makes sense -- anyone who's had to be MY on-call support team for fifty years deserves gold medals at the very least.

My parents are difficult to shop for. But I've recently discovered that the only thing more challenging than shopping for mom or dad is shopping for mom AND my dad at the same time. They're tough enough to shop for on their own -- but to find an anniversary present that would tickle BOTH of them is straight-up impossible. I eventually gave up and went with the ultimate cop-out: his & hers gift cards. Lame, I know. But now they can both get what they want, and I can stop scrolling through retail websites going, "Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope."

Based on the "Great 50th Anniversary Gifts" I found online, it appears that once you've been married for a half century, all sense of good taste must just fly out the window. Most of the offerings fell into the realm of what I'd classify as "cutesy" -- and if there's one adjective my dad has no patience for, it's cutesy. A gold-covered rose? He'd roll his eyes and possibly give me a lecture on money management. A golden plate that looks like something Hulk Hogan would strap on after winning Wrestlemania? Hard pass. Waterford crystal etched with their anniversary date? We all learned long ago that the Brown household is not a place for fragile breakables.  

Every site seems to think the ideal gift for my folks would be a gold picture frame that plays their favorite song anytime someone walks past -- sort of an upscale version of that singing fish that was all the rage for 2.7 seconds a decade ago. THIS is supposed to be the ideal gift for the people that raised me? Sounds like instant torture to me. Whatever song that gets loaded into that frame would quickly be NOBODY'S favorite song after the eleventieth time you hear it in a day. I'm pretty sure you don't see those Billy Bass fish anymore because they've all been angrily tossed into dumpsters by their exasperated owners who now spend their days neurotically rocking back and forth while muttering "taaake me to the riiiiver" through clenched teeth.

Besides, I'm not sure if there's even a sweet spot where my parents' music tastes mesh. Dad likes Santana and Chicago. Mom likes Barbra Streisand and Neil Diamond. I kid you not, they once picked me up in the car while jamming out to a CD of John Philip Sousa military marches. I suppose maybe that's what I could load that picture frame up with? Every time they get up to use the bathroom, it could blare "The Stars and Stripes Forever." After all, there's no better way to celebrate a golden anniversary than by taking a patriotic potty break.

Gift sites also recommended I buy them a golden wine decanter (they don't drink.) One site suggested I get them a gift certificate to their favorite restaurant (they don't eat out.) Another said I should buy tickets to their favorite getaway (which I'm pretty sure is their living room.) My dad likes military weapons and war movies. My mom likes to tape the Today show and watch it back during the day. Unless one of these sites sells a cannon that inexplicably shoots out Hoda Kotb and Al Roker, I don't know if there IS a gift that both of them will enjoy.

I struck out in the gift department, but I struck it rich in the parent department. I wouldn't be the weirdo I am today without their love, support, guidance, and gas money all these years. Whenever anybody has ever asked me what I want to be in life, I've never known what to say. But the honest truth? All I've ever aspired to be is as happy as they are. They're the gold standard of human beings.   

I don't know what it's like to be married for one year, let alone fifty. There are days I can barely stand co-habitating with a cat, let alone another human being. But they've somehow made it work, which in turn has made ME work. They taught me how to behave, how to learn, how to laugh, and how to love. There's no golden plate or decanter that can equal how grateful and lucky I am to have such awesome parents.

You'll probably never meet them. They like their quiet little life (well, as quiet as it can be when I'm their son.) I tend to live a little louder, which is why I wanna shout my gratitude from the rooftops. So raise a glass and toast my parents: impossible to shop for, impossible not to love. Happy anniversary, Mom and Dad!