The gift of Starsky
The sound of his leather jacket crinkling and his gun holster rubbing against the jacket is like the crinkle of the paper as you wrap it around
the gift.
His jeans are like the paper being measured perfectly and fitting the gift like a second skin.
His often worn flannel shirts are like felt wrapping paper, soft, comfortable and warm.
His shield is like the embossed foil wrapping paper, representing, symbolizing the importance of the recipient.
His gun is like the do not open until ... tag, a warning and there for protection.
His hair is like the chocolate satin ribbon and the curls are like the strips of the ribbons that have been curled, they wrap around your finger.
His eyes are like the card attached to the present. All the sentiments can be seen in their depths.
His lashes are like the way you write on the envelope to draw the recipient in.
His eye crinkles are like the p.s. you leave on the card, extra bits of info that you want to include and don't want to cut your connection just
yet.
His ears are like the candy cane you attach to a seasonal gift, curved at the perfect angle and so appetizing you want to go in for a nibble.
His nose is like the ribbon on the face of the gift, opening to show flare and concentration.
His mouth is like the big bow on top of the gift. Sitting a little askew, almost at an angle. A precursor to what awaits you inside. .
His lips are like the scissors used to cut the paper. When he licks them it cuts straight to your heart.
His smile is like the anticipation you get when you're handed the gift.
His tongue is like the dispenser of tape used to hold the paper together. Once connected you feel like your heart will rip if parted.
His teeth are like the back of the wrapping paper, beautiful, bright and white.
His neck is like the sharp fold of the paper to make the perfect angels to wrap the ends of the gift.
His shoulders are like yarn layered around the gift, broad, strong and able to support.
His back is like the twine used to tie paper around the gift, will bend but not break.
His chest is like the gift box used to hold and support the gift, straight, taut and protection for the gift inside.
His chest hair is like the spool of curling ribbon waiting for you to run your fingers through.
His stomach is like hard flat surface you unroll the paper on, strong and there for support.
His arms are like the tissue paper that wraps around and protects.
His hands are like the grosgrain heavy corded ribbon, beautiful, firm and strong
His fingers are like the pieces of tape that you tear off the roll used to secure the paper and hold it securely.
His package is like a metallic pull bow. It arrives flat and a simple tug forms a gorgeous wide bow with extra ribbon to tie around the package.
His behind is like the batteries needed to run the gift. A combination of two or more electrically charged cells, working together to produce electric energy.
His legs are like the ribbon that wraps around the sides of the package, strong and supportive.
His knees are like the the wrapping of the paper around difficult angels,to help bend and not tear.
His ankles are like the gift tags, one self adhesive and the other not as sturdy and needs to be taped occasionally.
His feet are like double sided bonding tape, providing shear strength, surface adhesion and conform ability.
His toes are like ribbon wire, strong and flexible.
His blue Adidas, pinkie rings and Chinese coins on a cord are like the type of paper used to wrap the gift. Letting you know what the occasion is,
birthday, Christmas etc. Part of his signature, when you see these you automatically think of Starsky.
His heart and soul are the real gift, inside all of the beautiful trappings that make up the wrapping.
Hutch is the lifetime warranty, always there to protect and back up the gift.