It really is the little things that make all the difference

Of late, I'm not much of a birthday person. I guess it's what happens.

So when people ask me what I want for my birthday, I usually reply, "Nothing." Because to me, it's silly at this age to reward someone for having completed yet another year -- or for beginning a new one, whatever your perspective.

Some months ago, my wife asked about the contents of a box in my office.

This box:

With glee, I took it down and opened it up.

 I explained that when MotoGP came back to the US (500 GP was a different series, but was held in the same regard) in 2005, it was a very special time. It was huge for the American riders in attendance; it was their opportunity to really shine for their home fans. Most of the American riders had one-off paint schemes on their motorcycle, special leathers and one-off helmet designs. 

One of those riders was Colin Edwards, shown at-speed coming down The Corkscrew, with his resplendent helmet design:

This design was so popular, and the representatives from the Arai Helmet Company received such paralyzing demand for this helmet design, they decided to make a commemorative, limited edition of this helmet. It was called the Edwards Legend - Laguna. There was a similar design, but in white, that Edwards wore in Valencia Spain; not surprisingly, this version was called the Edwards Legend - Valencia. 

In the summer of 2006, I had an opportunity to buy one of these helmets. So I did.  I truly think it's one of the most beautiful helmet designs Arai have ever pulled off. It so perfectly complemented the historical Yamaha livery, but it also stands on its own as a special.

So back to the box.

I open the box and give a similar explanation of the helmet's significance. 

"If it's so great, why don't you wear it?"

"Because it's a limited edition helmet, and if I wear it, it'll get messed up -- I mean, I know that's kinda' silly, but it's a piece of artwork to me."

"Well if you like it that much, why does it just sit in a box? You can't look at it in the box..."

"I dunno...

I guess I could get a helmet display case, but they're pretty expensive."

"Jerry (a friend of mine with another fabulous helmet from Arai commemorating Joey Dunlop -- the best TT road racer ever) got one from... I can't remember; some place on the west side."

And that was that.

In spite of my self-proclaimed ability to notice most things in life that others don't, I never noticed that the box was turned 90 degrees from how I left it. I guess I didn't think much of it, as my mother in-law is constantly rearranging furniture and everything else that's not bolted down in our house.

Now, comically enough, the day of my birthday, my son said, "I'm not gonna tell you what mommy got you for your birthday, daddy..."

"Can't tell you about the helmet-thing..."

Truly, I think he did great -- for a four year-old.  I mean, you can't really tell a four year-old a secret, tell him it's a secret, and that he shouldn't tell anyone else. 

The rest of that day, I'm thinking:

Helmet-thing...  What helmet-thing?  Did she get me another helmet?  How would she know what to look for?  Ah, well...  We'll see what it is when it's time, I guess...

The helmet-thing, turned out to be this:

And really, it's one of the best presents I've gotten.  Ever. The resourcefulness and attention to detail she paid to this gift can't be overstated. The wood is cherry, and unlike most cases that use plastic or plexiglass, this one uses glass for crystal-clear, distortion-free viewing.

It's one of the many reasons that I love her more than words could ever explain.