The Giraffe Effect (part 2 of 4)

The Giraffe Effect (part 2 of 4)
Feb 11, 2010


Thanks to the internets (lol), namely email and facebook, I am able to keep in contact with a large number of people that I’ve met over the years. Whether we were very close, passed in the halls of high school or college and never really got to know each other, or whether we drank really bad, warm, draft beer at Majestic's or Elsie's (ditto the apostrophe comment above), chances are, we feel like we know each other. And in most cases we do to some degree. Then, fast forward a few years. Slinging cards in casinos and coming up through the ranks selling cars on the coast, there’s been a few times that I ran into a chum with a bottle of rum and we wound up drinking all night (another Buffett quote that seems to fit.) So I know a lot of really good people. And I've had a lot of eclectic experiences with those people. Unfortunately, I just don’t care for giraffes.


Let me explain. It’s very similar to what my friend Lynsi calls “The Giraffe Effect.” She invited us over to see her new house last year and I couldn’t help but notice that she had several giraffes mixed in among all her decorations about the house. I saw a wooden giraffe on the mantle, a giraffe picture frame on the wall, a giraffe pillow on the couch and a stuffed giraffe chew toy for the puppy just to name a few. Having known Lynsi for a pretty good while, I never knew about her affinity for giraffes. So in making awkward conversation I said “I didn’t realize you liked giraffes so much.” To which she replied, “I don’t.” She continued “You make one 'that’s a cute giraffe' comment and that's all people give you.” She went on to say that it was easier to just smile and nod.


I completely understood that logic.


So here’s my giraffe.


As a kid I read and collected comic books. As an adult with a job and an above average income, I wanted to buy some of the rarer more expensive issues from the 1950s and 60s. However, this doesn’t necessarily mean that I have any intention of ever needing a set of Superman UNO cards or a Batman Frisbee.


Also, I currently own one of rarest lunchboxes ever produced, a Toppie, from the 1950s. Experts estimate that only about 21 to 25 were ever produced. It’s literally worth thousands. But that doesn’t necessarily mean that I like elephants very much or Green Stamps for that matter.


And I think that the possibility of one day owning an authenitc Superman Gum Card Mail-Away Secret Compartment Ring (that's a mouthful) from 1940 would be a heck of an addition to my pop culture collection. Collectors dream of those things! (I have to admit, it isn’t easy making the transition to grownup.) But don’t bring me a Twilight mood ring from Barnes & Noble because it reminded you of me. For one thing, you obviously don’t realize how hard real collectors try to distinguish themselves from the Twi-crap buyers. So don’t add to the agony. And second, hardly anyone that earns anything short of a doctor’s income could even afford the 1940 ring I mentioned above. It’s a tad bit pricey.


So how does all this fit in? I've noticed lately that I have to be really careful exactly what emails I forward and particularly who I forward those emails to. There's something in our society that makes it acceptable for anyone that might receive an email from me to put me on their forwarding list ad nauseum for every single bit of interweb nonsense that they read.


So The Giraffe Effect rears its ugly head in my inbox daily. This brings me to the incredibly poor taste, but necessary, issue of linking Biblical email and porn.


(to be continued...)