Here's my plexer: I've made no secret of my passion for all things 'automotive'. I have a ’40 Dodge pickup street rod in the garage, my den is a shrine to automobiles, I built a separate workshop in my garage just to build models, yet every year I hear my wife and family lament how "difficult" I am to shop for! So I get things like coffee mugs with snow men on them, flannel shirts, (I hate flannel), goofy novelty gifts, etc. Don't get me wrong, I love my family and honestly am not lacking for anything, but, for Pete sakes, if you're gonna get me something, just do a quick 180 from anywhere in our house, it shouldn't be too difficult to figure out what trips my trigger. (And yes, I've told them this, but they claim that it's "not very exciting", we just want to get you something different.") Advice to family: Let it go, I'm not developing an interest in theatre, stamp-collecting, or anything else 'mind-expanding'. In the words of that immortal celluloid character, 'Popeye', "I yam what I yam, and that's all that I yam."
Edited by Qwit Pushin, 23 December 2012 - 08:22 PM.