But then, maybe the whole idea behind gifts is the problem. Trans-fats and corn-plumped feedlot beef ground into flat grey patties aside, I am not keen on my child getting a toy just because he said Happy Meal. So maybe somebody at Cracker Jack is onto the right thing: make the little devils work for the prize, which is no prize at all once the paper is folded, sort of doubly sadistic all in one nicely nostalgic box (oh, this could be a segue into health insurance, but alas, another day). Which is why most people buy Cracker Jacks these days, because the packages evoke some sweet childhood memory; it is clearly not for the stale popcorn. We see them in the store and with one dull plop into the cart hope to pass a few quaint, not just those-were-the-days, but those were my childhood days, feelings to our beloved, and a nice dollop of what we value. Not bad for a buck ninety-nine for three.
But what do we pass on to that dear someone who has, not just everything, but everything everything? If Dickens were here to re-write the whole Scrooge saga he would have fodder a'plenty. Please, I am so not thinking an Adam Sandler version, nor even a (supposedly) edgier Jason Issacs' Lucius Malfoy morped into the big meanie, but a true Dickensian remake. He could begin with the editors of any magazine that lists in its current December issue's gift guide the latest must-crave (oh, I mean, must-give) which is clearly not just out of range for the majority of said periodical's readership (see above: $11,000 watch) but in the current economy (see: jobless rate, number of longtime unemployed no longer receiving money to live on, et al) just in plain poor taste. Presumably those behind the gist (artisan grits and homebrew-as-the-new-brew, and good god, you foodies should know by now that true homebrew is shine, not some nifty IPA you concocted from the hops your wife grew to shade the urban chicken coop) of Garden and Gun should know enough to uphold the gentile manners espoused by a magazine of the south. I can say this because I am an ex-pat southerner. I have had the dubious pleasure of being served the most wonderous and tiny biscuits by a most wonderful and hard-working cook, to whom my ex-in-laws referred to as one of their suh-vents. Did I ever tell you about the time the gardener, Mule, was fired because he asked aforementioned in-laws for a raise? From $3.25 an hour (well, he had worked for them since before then-hubby was born, so maybe 30 years). And the nerve! He wanted, we were told, over neat gin and tonics and some of those amazing cheese wafers, to buy a radio. A radio! Now why on earth would old Mule need a radio! Ya'll up there in yankeeville you can just wait, your turn is coming because I'm heading for the big O next. That would be you Ms. Winfrey: enough with the O list of bedazzled goodies. Do your readers need yet another reason to take on a second shift, in addition to the need to feed their children and put a Hormel on the Christmas table. Remember, second mortgages are so 2007.
And now to the question at hand: why are we even wondering, or told we should be wondering, just what to get for that special someone who has everything? The answer (see photo above) seems perfectly clear. Give them my handy-dandy shopping list. On said shopping list, have neatly written in your bestest handwriting these words: god bless us everyone. Highlight the word everyone. Give that shopping list to every special someone you know, especially all of us who really, when you stop to think about it, do already have everything.
Shopping List and Instructions for What to Give That Special Someone You Have Never Met But Who Clearly Needs Something
Handwarmer packets.
A pair of socks. Those with drawerfulls might not know this, but when you are living on little or no money there is no money for socks even from the thrift store. Not to be holier than thou, but I would be happy to show you one of my socks that I wore every day the past two years. Or was that a stretchy knit open-toed footless sandal?
Maybe some candy because it is Christmas and even when you are down and out the smallest kind thought goes a long way.
A granola bar or two. Crackers. Tuna in packets.
Kleenex or wipes.
Toothbrush and toothpaste.
Whatever else you might imagine a person living on the streets might be able to use, or would enjoy.
Put this stuff in a gift bag. Have the gift bags in your car and hand them out when you see someone asking for money. And don't forget to say Merry Christmas.
