I recently confronted a fairly common dilemma -- "What should I do for my next wedding anniversary?"
Giving wedding presents was simple. We could always invent something unique and crafty, i.e. inexpensive, that fit the bill. A confirmed bachelor buddy bought a case of power drills at a bulk discount. You KNEW his gift. "Everybody needs a drill ... or two."
Early on, joint anniversary presents weren't hard. We were young enough to need virtually everything, so almost anything evoked conjoined rapture.
A new TV, upgraded from my bachelor 10-inch (diagonal) black and white with rabbit ears meant big love. This was the stone age of consumer credit, so if we didn't save for it, we didn't buy it. This way, I parsed out useful gifts over many years.
Unfortunately, after several years of glacial procurement, we were fully furnished. Gift selection got infinitely harder, but at least we had the traditional list of anniversary gifts for inspiration. But most lists I've found peter out at 15 and only provide suggestions every five years after that. Maybe the seers who created these lists decided that either you would be divorced or so fiscally entangled that there was no need for yearly inspirations beyond the 15th year.
Faced with a 31st anniversary, I'm forced to rely on my own wits, in itself a scary thought. In the absence of definitive guidance, I propose that every Alaskan use the following list to guide gifting during the critical anniversary years from 30 to 40, thus maintaining domestic tranquility and foiling thoughts of either a trophy wife or young stud-muffin:
31st: Clam Gun. We forgot pearls for the 30th. Maybe we'll find a gem quality substitute in Ninilchik or at least get a few batches of chowder from the deal.
32nd: Glass. Not frivolous crystal but the laminated kind. If you don't have a cracked windshield now, you will in a couple of years.
33rd: Beer. An ice cold 12-pack of Alaskan amber delivered with appropriate ceremony on the blessed day could be considered "an anniversary in a box."
34th: Monofilament You should re-spool every year but never do. So splurge with 125 yards of 20-pound test just to be sure.
35th: Jade. If you survived the last four years with those gifts, you better do something nice this year. So go traditional and stick with something made from the official state stone.
36th: Shock absorbers. The nausea you feel during your daily commute might be caused by the half dozen bounces the truck makes every time you cross the tire ruts. It's over 100,000 miles and still on the original equipment shocks, you dummy. Fix it now and forget about it for another 10 years.
37th: Alignment. You should get it aligned anytime you repair the suspension but were too cheap to do it last year. So get 'er done!
38th: Rubber. Both your waders are cracked where they fold down to tromp the stairs and banks of the Russian. Even the bicycle patches and shoegoo are peeling off. The cold dribbles will only get worse and induce trench foot this summer. If brown rubber or neoprene inspires your kinky side, go for it. But please, don't discuss this while combat fishing next to me.
39th: Survival Supplies. Ensure your wedded bliss will survive the next Big One with a timely update. Imagine the romantic dinner you can prepare from Spam, C-rations, energy bars and ramen, all at least 10 years past their "best by" dates. "You want a Tang mimosa with that?" Yum!
40th: Ruby. Who wants yet another stupid gem present that will sit on the dresser? So instead schedule a romantic, fun-filled getaway to the town of Ruby for the next Iditarod. Snow, cold, dogs, darkness and something your grandkids will never believe. What's not to like?
So now armed with a coherent approach to Alaska anniversaries, we can be assured of continued marital bliss with an annual reaffirmation of our connection to the Great Land. Now who said that Alaskans aren't romantic?
An incurable sentimentalist, Dan Bonney claims his most inspired birthday gift was a muffler for his wife's car.
DAN BONNEY
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