Geekmas II: Gimcrackery.

Every year my department at work has a pot luck luncheon combined with a Secret Santa gift exchange. One of my co-workers is very much a Christmas person, and as such invests a lot of time and effort* into decorating our boardroom and arranging the Secret Santa draw and so on. However, this year there was some discussion about the continuation of the Secret Santa tradition.  As someone quite accurately pointed out, “We’re all adults who make a reasonable wage, we can buy ourselves a $25 bottle of wine if we want to.”

The sad truth behind their observation is that it can be very difficult to buy a small gift for someone that you only know through work, which leads a lot of people to fall back on alcohol, the gift that keeps on giving.  I've been quite fortunate - my public reputation as a geek has done quite well by me with Secret Santa, as I’ve pointed out in previous postings.  This is the first year that I’ve received anything close to a duplicate of an existing possession – I received another figure from the CubeBot line – but that was followed up today by what I assume to have been the contents of a late-arriving parcel.   Coincidentally, when I came back to my desk after discussing the efficacy of the Secret Santa concept, I discovered a Doctor Who Floating TARDIS Pen on my desk.

Now, let’s be brutally honest.  The little collection of pop-culture geek gimcrackery that adorns my computer desk at home would be considered trash by most people, a pointless collection of dusty toys.  But for me they all have little stories. There are icons and memorabilia from my longstanding hobby, echoes of my childhood that would otherwise be forgotten, and, in the case of things like the Doctor Who pen, some of them represent a little bit of recognition from someone who has gotten to know me well enough to get me a little piece of shared memory – even if it is in secret.

Thank you, Santa.

- Sid

P.S.  The licensed manufacturers of this pen have a lot of confidence in their product, even if they've taken a slightly old school approach to it.  The packaging includes a twelve month guarantee for the pen, which is a long time to expect a pen to survive.  Surprisingly, pen owners seeking restitution cannot simply send an e-mail, but must write a letter - presumably using another pen.

* Time and effort which does not receive enough acknowledgement - thanks again, Meadd!