How to appear talented
You remember that episode of Mad Men, when Roger Sterling’s daughter gets married on the day after Kennedy was shot? That one intrigued me especially, because my parents very nearly did the same thing. Instead, due to an innocuous scheduling conflict, they pushed the wedding up by a week and found out about the assassination while they were on their honeymoon. I’ve always marveled at goings-on like this, how a seemingly trifling thing can live on to cause startling ramifications. It’s just remarkable, even though you’re probably better off not remarking about it so much. Because you might freak out.
Forty-eight years later, they are still together. (And this is decidedly NOT random. But that’s another story. Or possibly several. See how I started three consecutive sentences with different conjunctions? That’s pretty impressive.)
Where was I?
Oh, yes. When your parents reach a certain age, there really isn’t much left you can get them as gifts. At least, that’s the case with my folks, who live pretty simply. Over the years, their favorite gifts from us have been the ones their kids (and grandkids) have made for them. I don’t usually give them gifts for their anniversary, but I think I should, given the work they’ve done for their marriage to survive this long. So over the weekend, I decided to use my new printer and act on a bit of inspiration.
These pictures are of my parents way back in the day. When they were hot. I keep them on my wall because I am obsessed with the idea of getting to meet them at this age. (Back to the Future remains one of my favorite films.)
I took them out of their frames, scanned them as regular documents (rather than in picture grayscale), and edited them in Picnik to drastically alter the contrast.
Then I cut the figures out, arranged them on a white sheet of paper, like so:
After a little cross-hatching (I have a weakness for Pilot Precise V5′s which are also excellent for crossword puzzles):
I had a makeshift portrait of the two of them, together:
I like the message of the juxtaposition, because they’re both separate and merged together, as is the case I guess when you share 2/3 of your life with someone. I won’t get the chance (I don’t think), so it’s at least a good thing to celebrate it when it happens.
This is the second of three posts I’ll be writing that are sponsored by Canon, which sent me a brand new PIXMA printer. It’s black and badass and looks like something where a supervillain might keep his bread products.
You look so much like your dad. And you are such a good son. Your parents will be incredibly moved.
Those are gorgeous. I end up giving them various representations of my kids. Silhouettes, photo books, videos. You’re right about there not being much they still want/need. Maybe a tropical island – with lots of cable channels.
I remember the day this piurcte was taken at Muirfield Golf Tournament. I see my daughter Avery, now 10, in the stroller. I can’t imagine being any closer to Mom and Dad and we talked about everything. Dad would always say that everything was in order and no need to worry. They seemed to be preparing for their deaths for years and we discussed it openly. Even with all this, we were still ill-prepared for their passing. All I really knew is that Mom wanted to be cremated and we trusted that Dad had the documents in place. Unfortunately, thinking we were prepared caused delays in settling the estate and avoidable tax consequences. I will be sure to do things differently for my children. Now, Jen, I’ll trade you Mom’s knitting needles, chainsaw and compost bag for her wedding ring!