Midwest Memo
Wrappings
by Alan Shultz

I like watching the ladies in giftwrap as they ply their trade.

I appreciate the talent it takes to combine giftwrap and tape, ribbon and bow, and turn it all into something lovely.

I like the confidence a good gift wrapper shows when she or he approaches their task. There’s that measured eye sizing up how much giftwrap is needed. There’s that steady wielding of the scissors, the authoritative command of the tape dispenser, the sharp folds, the precision corners.

I’m sincere in my appreciation. I’ve never mastered package wrapping, so I appreciate it when it’s well done.

Have you ever received a gift where more thought and effort went into the wrap than the gift inside. They’re all trumpet and fanfare but no parade.

The holidays come wrapped in some lovely things, tradition and giving. There’s the music and the food and the festivity. But some holiday wrappings could just as well be dispensed with. The excess, the credit card debt, the commercialization of a religious observance.

Wrappings can be a lovely bonus, then again, they can also obscure the real deal.

Last week I was at business meeting of a small church group. The members sought my advice on a couple items and we sat down and had a good meeting.

At the end of the meeting one task was left incomplete. We needed the signatures of two board members of the church. “No problem,” I told the group. When I had arrived that morning I parked the car on a side street near the church. At that time I noticed a branch of the bank where I have my checking account.

It was a warm day, sunny and bright and four of us marched on over to the branch bank to get the necessary signatures notarized.

I bank at an institution that is used to high end banking business. They like the wealthy folks but wound up with me years ago as a customer in a package deal with one of my clients “ O h my,” one of the church ladies remarked as we entered the lobby of the bank.

The woodwork, the colors, the furniture and art work, it all was chosen to make a particular impact and the bank makes a statement with its look. A receptionist seated us in an elegant waiting area. Classical music played in the background. Forbes and Wall Street lay on the coffee table for us to pass the time.

After a long wait we were ushered into a private office. All that wrapping, the finery, the corporate plumage of finery surrounded us, hung heavy in the air, as we were informed that the bank would not notarize the signatures of non-deposit holders.

Like a parade that lost its way, we four were quickly ushered out the door. But we regrouped and laughed at the haughty pretense we had endured.

Off to the currency exchange we marched.

Beckoning in neon, and in three different languages, we found the currency exchange wrapped in litter and advertising, a radio blaring, a foreign beat filled the air. The lady behind the bullet-proof glass was friendly and efficient and for a buck apiece, we were in business.

The real deal wasn’t wrapped in a fancy bow, but was plain and clumsy and delightfully ordinary.

Out the door we kicked up our heals and laughed and when we parted there was a round of spontaneous hugs, a kind of celebration of the discovery of a fundamental truth.

So for this holiday, I intend to appreciate the wrappings but stay alert for the real - the real message, the real spirit. The dazzle of the glitter does not lead toward the manager, does not even light the way.

Merry Christmas to our readers and joyful wishes one and all.