The entire holiday stick has just lost its' luster I guess. May be due to an aging population or maybe there's no room left in the closet for the once used Chia pets of Christmases past. Do you really need a computerized electronic nose hair trimmer? Cross that one off your list aunt Martha. Quit chuckling and put it back on the shelf. And what was to be so thankful for this fine holiday season? Twenty five million around the world are parked in tents in the desert or living in bombed out buildings. So what joy do we get? Fifty cents off the price of gas at the pump is no great prize. You can now afford to drive to the mall but the bank statement says that's about it so why bother? Now think for a minute the absolute worst gift you've ever received and pop them in the comments. A certain extended ivory handled shoe horn comes to mind for me which at the time was when I took a liking to wearing boots. Like a comb and brush set for a bald man (bad example I know but it was on the top of my head, pun intended).
Ah but let's get to the meat of this little morning mental excursion:
I once recall one of those magic moments, an epiphany if you will, of the sheer insanity of consumerism that pervades the season. One Christmas morning after the floor was strewn with wrapping paper, precious satin bows had been saved and the excitement of the moment had waned, that core concept slapped me in the face of the absurdity of it all. Sneaking gifts into the house and running upstairs so no prying eyes would be let on to the surprise, then carefully (or not) wrapping presents to be nonchalantly placed under the tree. So in a nut shell it was wrap presents upstairs bring them down to be unwrapped then to be returned upstairs to the recipients' room. (I was older then so no toys strewn about the living room.)
When this epiphany struck me one fine Christmas morning I pointed it out to my father who with his droll sense of humor not bothering to look up from the newspaper he was reading quipped "What fools these mortals be."
No bank fails this past week but there's still a month to go.
1 comment:
Love your father's remark. I find the older I get the fewer pieces of "plastic happiness" I need in my life. Just a set of woodworking tools like Billy has would be fine forever. I have enough clothes to last 20 years and unless my computer dies, it should be good for 10. Books - if I even read the ones i have it will take years.
Post a Comment