The annual dilemma! What to buy Grandpa, Grandma, your nutty uncle and the other “seasoned” (aka old bag) loved ones in your life for Christmas? They’re usually the last ones you shop for and the toughest. I know, because I’ve been a proud, AARP-carrying card member for several decades. What gift can you get for the geriatrics in your life that they’ll actually want and use, and doesn’t look like you just grabbed it on your way to the check-out line at CVS? (Hint: Boxes of easy-to-chew, assorted cream chocolates is a dead give-away.)

On behalf of my fellow senior citizens, I’m here to tell families and friends alike that we know you dread shopping for us. Guess what? We get it – and, as much as we love you, we’re not so thrilled with the whole dog and pony show either. After all, how many desk calendars of scenic America, crocheted remote control holders and Sudoku books does one need? Here’s an idea! Take that money and buy little Suzy or Sammy an iPhone upgrade, whatever that is, instead.

Here’s what us old geezers really want: Your time! Clear the piles of old papers in our den, move the cranky cat aside, sit down to have a chat! Leave your various electronic gizmos at the door.

We want to lean back and relax and reminisce about holidays past. In my case: the Christmas my father and uncle dipped a bit too deep into the Christmas punch, and serenaded the clan with a very off-key rendition of “All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth,” while clutching their dental bridges in one hand and bottles of rum in the other and soft shoeing across the living room. Or the time my young daughter pitched such a fit when Santa brought her big brother a blazing red jacket with the name of his “squirt” ice hockey team emblazoned on it. I had to beg the local rink owner to open up his pro shop on Christmas day to buy her one. Or the December night when I dressed up like Santa to surprise my grandchildren only to have the door slammed in my face by my six-year-old-going-on-forty grandson screaming: “You’re not Santa. Santa doesn’t wear topsiders.”(Smart kid!) Or the New Year’s Eve after my father died – how I could swear I heard the sounds of Lester Lanin, his favorite band, playing when I walked past the little apartment attached to our house where he lived in his last years.

We want to share these stories with you – our beloved kids, grandkids, extended family and old friends – because we want to remember them and, just for a few moments, be transported back to those days, when long gone loved ones were still with us, when our children were small and still under our roof, and Christmas morning was a cacophony of joyous cries and the occasional sibling punching match.

Just as important, we want you to remember these stories and tell them again and again in the years and decades ahead, so we can be with you, and laugh with you, and celebrate with you – if not in person, then through a life’s worth – our life’s worth – of memories.

At 83, sometimes I can’t remember what it is that I forgot or where it is that I was going when I got lost. I have to keep written count of the daily pills and eye-drops I take, and sometimes I can’t remember what I just had for lunch, but the details of holidays come tumbling back in sharp focus when I hear the first notes of “Jingle Bells.”

What was I prattling on about? Oh, yeah, holiday gifting. Back to the task at hand! Go ahead, shop till you drop – but not for me! I don’t deny that I need a new sweater. I have a bunch already, and I only wear the two that I like best over and over until my wife protests and hides them. I have plenty of hats. The red, multi-colored tam-o’-shanter that my father gave me is my winter cover. I own an array of baseball caps to don in warmer weather. I have all the mugs, pens, pencil holders that I can ever use. The antlers on the desk-sized wooden moose eyeglass holder that I got three years ago have fallen off and broken – just as well because the moment I take my glasses off my nose I forget where I put them anyway. Don’t spend your money on electronic gadgets that I’ll never figure out how to use, or the red reindeer socks with a light-up tie to match (I’m a geezer  not a geek!) What Grandpa and Grandma and Great Aunt Sally want is your company.

However, if you absolutely insist on buying me something – a magnum of Scotch, single malt would be nice. Don’t tell Grandma! (You can also buy my book, by the way… no pressure:)

George S. K. Rider is the author of The Rogue’s Road to Retirement: How I Got My Groove Back After 65 and How You Can Too – a humorous look at how to stay young by staying in touch with your inner bad boy or girl, and how to preserve your stories for future generations. He sold and published his first book at age 82. You can buy The Rogue’s Road at R.J. Julia’s in Madison, CT, and online at:

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-rogues-road-to-retirement-george-s-k-rider/1120667858

http://www.walmart.com/ip/39964311

Dad Tam