WHITE ELEPHANT GIFTS THAT SHOULD BE RETIRED

WHITE ELEPHANT GIFTS THAT SHOULD BE RETIRED

It’s the time of year when White Elephant gift exchanges run rampant through households and places of employment. For the uninitiated, this is when each participant supplies a wrapped gift of predetermined value, a selection order is established, and a person can either choose to unwrap a new gift from the pile, or seize/swipe one that has already been opened by another participant. And although Duke Cannon certainly believes that “it's the thought that counts,” we have noticed over the years that certain less-than-desirable items manage to appear time and time again. So get your White Elephant bingo cards ready, because here they are.

A DEEPLY-DISCOUNTED DVD
Maybe it’s Paul Blart Mall Cop 2. Perhaps it’s the dreaded X-Men Origins: Wolverine. Or, if your karmic debt is truly gargantuan, a gently used copy of Mamma Mia! Either way, you are guaranteed a sub-par cinematic experience when you select a DVD-shaped package to unwrap. You have been warned.

A $20 GIFT CARD TO A NATIONWIDE RESTAURANT CHAIN
The names and logos may change but the heartfelt yuletide message remains the same: “Here is a scant $20 for you to enjoy a single appetizer and a watery lager at a generic eatery.”

A BOTTLE OF KAHLUA
Someone will 100% bring this. And some overzealous Big Lebowski fan will 100% swoop in like a condor and gleefully claim it.

LOTTERY TICKETS
Nothing says “Happy Holidays” like a small stack of scratch off tickets that at best may net you $5 while keeping the festive spirit of state-sanctioned gambling alive.

A CLEARLY REGIFTED BOX OF QUAINT STATIONARY
Perfect for dipping your quill into a bottle of ink and writing a cursive letter, which will then presumably be delivered by horseback across the country to distant relatives living in a one-room log cabin, who will then read your exploits aloud to each other in front of a roaring fire, just as our forefathers did.

FRUITCAKE
We don’t really have to explain this, do we?

FUZZY SOCKS
No one wants these socks, or even knows where they came from. Nonetheless, here they are, year after year, in all their fuzzy non-glory; a communal curse your group simply cannot shake. We are truly sorry, but these are now yours for the next twelve months, until you pawn them off on another unsuspecting victim at next year’s holiday gathering.*

*Pro tip: when regifting them next year, hide their true form in a larger square box. Works every time.

A 4-PACK OF TOILET PAPER
Duke Cannon is nothing if not practical, but this is perhaps a bridge too far.