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December 13 'Tis The Season..... Part 3 - The Ghost Of Christmas PresentsOnce again, we come to the Holiday Season, a deeply religious time that each of us observes, in his own way, by going to the mall of his choice. ~Unknown
Once again we find ourselves enmeshed in the Holiday Season, that very special time of year when we join with our loved ones in sharing centuries-old traditions such as trying to find a parking space at the mall. We traditionally do this in my family by driving around the parking lot until we see a shopper emerge from the mall, then we follow her, in very much the same spirit as the Three Wise Men, who 2,000 years ago followed a star, week after week, until it led them to a parking space. ~Dave Barry
Cindy Lou Who: Santa, What’s Christmas really about?
The Grinch: Vengeance. I mean… presents, I suppose.
~From ‘How The Grinch Stole Christmas’ 2000
Internet shopping; YOU GOTZ TO LOVE IT!
I think by this time I have made it plainly known that the Christmas holiday is not on my list of things to live for. My wife, at this time of year, calls me Mr. Humbug. But at least one of the many things that make this holiday so trying for me has become a ghost of Christmas past.
For those of you who are generation ‘what-ever’, let me tell you a tale of the way it was way back in the olden days or yore. First the kids would make their lists of wants using what was known back then as a pencil and paper. No computers with fancy spell checking and printing; No emails with ready URL’s to guide woebegone parents to exactly what was needed. The child had to spell it out using the handwriting skills that Miss Crabapple taught them back in a school room where the most high tech doodad in sight was the pencil sharpener (manual operation of course). And even if the handwriting was perfect, with well spaced letters and faultless rounding of those bulgy letters like ‘B’ and ‘R’, half the time our parents didn’t know what the hell we were jabbering about. How many poor children ended up with Yahtzee or worse, simply because a parent couldn’t figure out what the hell a ‘Commander Gizmo with Flashing Laser Eyes and Crushing Kung-Fu Grip’ was. Who can blame a beleaguered parent for taking the lost in translation gift route. Even if the kid could point to the item on the ‘six-channel-not-including-UHF-rabbit-antenna ’ TV, all mom or dad could hear was ‘I want a blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, Yahtzee”. But for those parents who were in the know, it was the trumpet call of ‘LET THE GAMES BEGIN’.
You would hop into the car and head off to 150 different stores in a vain attempt to track down the items on the list that everyone else and their mother had on theirs too. The spirit of Christmas was alive as you hunted down a parking space; creeping along like a tiger stealth fully stalks its evening meal. A shopper loaded with bags is seen leaving the gates of hell -err- the mall. You watch your prey as they make their direction known and if necessary you make a course adjustment to intercept. As you are setting up for the kill, you can see just above the tall grass of cars around you that several other hunters have spotted your prey and are looking to make it their own. Depending on the ensuing scenario, if you are victorious, you would be the one to shrug off the slings and arrows (otherwise known as the flying middle finger) as a badge of honor; else, you will be the one to toss the universal cheer of the season only to begin your hunt again. When finally you entered the hallowed halls of shopping, and a new hunt in a new jungle would begin.
Your skill at cursing would become as a finely honed sword and your tolerance for mankind would sink to new lows. If people were allowed to be publicly armed at this time of year, we would never have to worry about an over population problem in this country; everything would rebalance itself around this blessed time of year.
And so, that part of the Humbuggery that I felt for this holiday has been eradicated by the cyber super-highway. Kids type their wants and email the list, complete with ‘I’m-so-stupid-but-look-I-can’t-go-wrong’ URL’s attached. Point, Click, Order, Pay, Logoff and let the goodies come flowing to me. For me, Santa is all decked out in brown and comes in a truck of the same color.
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