CHARLESTON, W.Va. -- Comedian Ron White does this bit about jewelry store ads that say things like, "Diamonds are forever" and "Diamonds. Render her speechless." Says White: "Why don't they just go ahead and say what they mean? 'Diamonds: That'll shut 'er up.'"

I think about that every time I hear one of the campaigns for giving gift cards this Christmas. The ads give many reasons for buying gift cards.

Give the gift of convenience.

Never worry about buying the wrong gift again.

Give the gift where one size really does fit all.

What I hear those ads saying is, "Gift cards. That'll shut 'em up."

Unfortunately, gift cards might also keep them from enjoying the bizarre gifts that help make holidays memorable, and recalling them part of a family's lore.

Growing up, the presents my Aunt Wilma sent from California were the ones we always wanted to open first. Sometimes she'd send one big box containing a bunch of random gifts for all of us, including the dogs. There'd be marionettes and hand-tooled leather purses bought in Tijuana, Mexico; marzipan candy from a Germantown village; fabulous junk from a Pick 'n Save store. Even though she was thousands of miles away, she had an uncanny instinct for what we'd like.

As we got older, Aunt Wilma's presents matured, too. One year she gave every female in the family a real feather boa. Not the flimsy, feathery string-type boas, but full out, Las Vegas showgirl-style boas. Give a bunch of Polish women feather boas, and you're guaranteed to have a holiday to remember.

If Wilma had been a fan of gift cards, Christmas would have been much less interesting.

I have a friend whose mother has become famous in their family for her odd gift choices. If she happened to go grocery shopping on the same day she went Christmas shopping, some recipients were likely to get a bag of beautifully wrapped potatoes. Or, if the dog on a bag of Purina resembled a dog you had as a kid, it's Purina for you. Whether you have a dog now or not.

My spared-from-being-named friend isn't sure if her mom is genuinely losing her marbles or simply enjoying the freedoms that come with being viewed as eccentric.

"It's becoming a tradition for me and my brother and cousins to get together later to try and figure out what motivated Mom to choose certain gifts," said my friend. "Our Christmases wouldn't be anywhere near as memorable if Mom was a conventional type. The fun and closeness we're getting will long outlast what we'd have if she gave normal gifts."

A few years ago, my daughter and I were Christmas shopping when we came across a vase so bizarre she absolutely had to buy it for her stepdad, Geoff, as a joke. The vase was white and covered all the way around with smooth white faces, with the right eye of one face also serving as the left eye of the face beside it. Not only was it creepy (the eyes didn't have pupils), but it also seemed just a bit out of focus. When people saw it for the first time, they'd often squint to see if their vision was off kilter, since non-moving objects aren't normally blurry.

I suppose we should've taken into consideration the quirkiness of the person getting the gift, as well as the gift itself. Geoff loved the vase so much it's now displayed prominently in our living room. (Currently wearing a Santa hat and scarf.)

Much as my family and I love and appreciate strange gifts, I realize there are many who don't. Poorly chosen gifts can be awkward for both the recipient and the giver, so I can understand the appeal of gift cards and cash. Still, it seems that if it truly isn't the gift, but the thought that counts, then giving gift cards and cash would suggest very little thought was given.

I suppose if some creativity is employed in the way in which the gift card is packaged, it might be possible to give it a more personal touch. For instance, a gift card to Starbucks could be tucked inside a funny coffee mug. Cash toward a new washer and dryer could be wrapped in a box with laundry detergent and fabric softener.

A gift card to Kroger could be tucked neatly inside a bag of beautifully wrapped potatoes.

And a gift certificate from the shelter could come with a big bag of Purina attached.

Reach Karin Fuller at karinful...@gmail.com.