Yesterday I was about to go into a newsagent, when a couple of kids stopped me just outside. If they gave me the money, would I go in and buy them a packet of cigarettes?
“Sorry, no,” I replied.
It’s a moral thing – I’m not buying their cigarettes for them. They’re under-age, and I’m not helping them out.
The same thought came today, when, in response to a request for present ideas, someone suggested buying the Mamma Mia DVD as a Christmas gift (no names – no pack drill).
Just like I’m not going to help feed some youths’ nicotine addiction, I’m not going to support someone’s terrible taste in celluloid – even if it’s ironic.
I have to have standards. I’d feel dirty just buying a copy. I’d have to explain to the shop assistant that it wasn’t for me. I’m feeling a cold shiver down my back just typing these words, and thinking about quite how appalling the film might be.
When I give a gift, however much the recipient desires the gift or has asked for it, the fact that I’ve given it is a reflection of me and my tastes.
So no Mamma Mia DVDs, no Mariah Carey CDs, no Martina Cole novels, and so on.