'The Spoofer' (left); 'The Spoofee' (right) and their brother 2007 |
First, some definitions: SPOOFER: noun. One who spoofs;
TO SPOOF: verb. A gentle, satirical, light-hearted imitation (with emphasis on gentle, at least in my intention); a light parody; a good-humored deception.
[And, I would add, not to be equated with a newer usage that I have just learned:'an act or instance of impersonating another person on Internet or via e-mail.' Somehow that does not seem 'good-humored'.]
This past week-end I saw a friend who commented on an earlier post about nicknames. He said that he was surprised by an omission. . . 'The Spoofer'. Well, that is I, though I have never thought of it as a nickname so much as it has become an acknowledgement of having wounded my 'baby brother's feelings' when he was about 8 or 9 years old. This same 'baby brother' is about to join the ranks of the certifiably old. At least Gerontologists decree that at 65 a person becomes 'old'.
A few years ago, our recycling center ran an ad in the local newspaper. It pictured an empty box and the caption; "Not everyone appreciates an empty box. We do." Well, on Christmas morning somewhere around 1957-1958, my brother categorically DID NOT appreciate an empty "Gift wrapped" box and let it be known by a great outpouring of tears.
This is how it happened. Any other versions have been altered.
I needed a part-time job over the Christmas college break. The local Belk's department store needed gift wrappers. So, two former high school classmates (also guys !!) and I were hired. {For any classmates who may read this, my co-workers were "Speedy" Brewer and "Chubby" Neighbors, both now deceased.}In retrospect, I shudder to think of some of the monstrosity wrappings that must have exited there that Christmas season. There were, however, several beautifully wrapped boxes in the window display. At closing time on Christmas Eve, I asked the manager if I might have one. Sure. I had a plan.
By the time I arrived at home, my brother already had 'visions of sugar plums' dancing in his head. Perfect. I slipped the box under the tree and put his name on the "TO: " part of the tag and noted that it was "FROM: THE SPOOFER". When he came into the room early the next morning, guess which gift caught his eye!! Straight to it, removing the ribbon and wrapping paper with great gusto . . . only to discover . . .AN EMPTY BOX. I didn't know that his vocabulary did not include the noun: Spoofer. To this day, I am uncertain as to which of us was the more traumatized.
With the passing of years, I had assumed that the episode was forgotten (and perhaps forgiven). But at some point (and I honestly do not remember how or when or by whom...though I have my hunches on the latter), the story was resurrected with a definite "You have some making up to do, Big Brother." Thus The Spoofer was dusted off to make his subsequent annual visit to my 'wronged' sibling.
There are uncodified stipulations that require adherence for these to be true to the spirit of the gift: i) they must be outrageously, gaudily wrapped; ii) they can have no conceivable utilitarian value. Did you know that the Sunday newspaper's comic section affords some very colorful and inexpensive gift wrap ? Or, even tackier, regular old week-day newsprint will do. And, on a few occasions when my by-then-grown-brother edited the local weekly, I used that paper for wrapping.
As for the contents, they have included: an assortment of toys purchased from a nearby 'Dime Store' just before it closed permanently. [If you do not know what a 'Dime Store' was, go ask Grandma. Kind of the pre-inflation forerunner of Dollar General, I suppose.]; themed garments (don't ask); copies of The New York Times and area newspapers dated November 23, 1963... perhaps the most 'serious' ; assorted 'literature' ; but the one that backfired in terms of utility was the wooden toilet seat. That beauty would have been worth much more than the asking price of a couple of dollars had one of the bolts for attachment not been missing. The recipient had the audacity to locate an appropriate size bolt and to provide a 'home' for the gift for several years. And, occasionally just to add the appropriate sentimentality, Spoofer includes an original Ode extolling the virtues of his sibling and the great care and attention that have been exercised in choosing 'just the right gift'.
Have you hugged your brother (or sister, if you have one; I regret that I do not) today?
1948 |
Satchel (aka, The Spoofer)
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