Doolittle

One time when I was living in Kalamazoo I was in the record store looking for a birthday present for my sister. One of the salespeople, John, a guy that I knew as an acquaintance from local rock shows, asked me if he could help me find something. I told him my plight, what to get for my sister, seven years younger than myself, that might bridge some sort of musical gap between us. He immediately suggested Doolittle and said it was always the perfect gift, especially for someone her age. I smiled and nodded knowingly as he returned to the register to help another customer. I stood for a moment confused and uncertain of my next move. Doolittle? Was that the name of the album or the band? At 21 I was sure that asking that question would be answered with only a look of severe disappointment so I grabbed a Led Zeppelin record and told him she probably wasn't ready for Doolittle then drove to the nearby CD Warehouse. I scanned the racks for Doolittle searching desperately for bands in the D section and then even scanning various titles in obscure bands that I had heard in passing. After coming up empty-handed I swallowed my pride and asked the John Cusack-esque salesman (the only reason I ever went into that music store) if he could point me in the direction of Doolittle. I admitted that I didn't know if it was the band or the title. He paused for a moment, maybe to mock me inwardly, then feigned recognition and walked me to The Pixies. I thanked him and bought the cd and listened to it on the drive home.
Listening to the cd now I remember how right John was and wish that someone would have given me that album as a gift when I was 15. I also wish I would have given it to my sister, but I suppose the electric guitar for Christmas a couple years later would have been a close second. I think maybe the best gifts are those treasured as much by the giver as the receiver.