Livestrong

I was never going to get one of those yellow rubber Livestrong bracelets. I'd see guys at the gym with them on and think, "What a tool. If you want to donate money to cancer research, just write a check." They seemed like friendship bracelets or charm necklaces or some similar jewelry trend, left over from the era of Trapper Keepers and sticker books. Now that I'm a grownup, I don't do sartorial fads. I never bought a white belt or a trucker cap. I know what looks good on me, or at least what I like, and that's what I wear. (I'm actually pretty particular, too. My Mom likes to knit. She makes sweaters for everyone, usually Aran style fisherman sweaters. But when it came time to make me my sweater, she presented me with a bunch of patterns from a Contemporary Knits booklet, and said, "Look! I got you some hipster patterns to look at. This one is a hoodie!")



But I have a Livestrong bracelet now and I wear it every day. And there is, of course, a story.



My friend Cathy is one of those people who always has a job and then about six charities that she works for, donating time and money and her not inconsiderable organizational skills. She's a much better person than I am, basically, and I have no idea why she keeps me around. I think it's because I'm fun at parties.



Anyway, about a week ago, Cathy had some people over to play poker. She fleeced me out of about twenty bucks, but I got some great chili out of the deal, plus this Livestrong bracelet, which was in a basket of about twenty of the suckers, sitting on her kitchen counter.



Cathy always gives stuff away at her gatherings. At the Sopranos finale, she gave out little squirt guns. I like free stuff, so I always take one of whatever she's giving out. So I reached into the basket and said, "Oh, hey. Livestrong bracelets. Can I have one?"



"Yes," Cathy said. "You can have one. But only if you're really going to wear it."



She added that mostly because she had to order these bracelets so far ahead of time, and because they cost a bit of cash. But I picked up something else from her tone, too, which was that my particularness might be ever so slightly irritating for my friends, from time to time, and that they shouldn't have to shell out for the privilege of having their gifts abandoned in the pile of crap on my coffee table.



So now I'm trying to be the kind of person who wears gifts. (Please don't give me any sweatshirts with kittens on them, or anything like that. I'm new at this, and you don't want to push me.) I've been wearing the bracelet for a week now, and I really like it. It's extra big, just like my watch, so it sort of fits the whole "I'm so smart, I can't be bothered to make sure my socks match" intellectual urchin thing I've got going on. But most of all, it's reminding me to try to be good instead of cool.



Leave it to me to turn a cancer benefit into a quest for personal growth.