His Gift Was Him
The Sears Catalog. I don't know if I'm supposed to capitalize the word Catalog, but I probably should given the place it holds in my youth. The Sears Catalog came out every September, and in it's illustrious pages you could find every new toy to ogle over before Christmas Day. Naturally, we poured over it with near rabid anticipation. By we, I think I mean me and my younger brother, but it might've been just me, if I'm willing to take the blame.
The Sears Catalog was a near magical journey of longing and hope, for objects of unparalleled beauty in the heart of an eight year old idolater. I had no idea the affect it would have. Years later, as a music maker, pouring through other capital "C" Catalogs, pining over objects of unparalleled beauty, my idolatry became more clearly defined. The delight of purchasing, the gratification of attainment, the insatiable pleasure of parcels arriving on the doorstep. A hunger unfulfilled. A world without end.