Christmas, 50% Off

     I read a new article this week that left me speechless, scratching my head, sad.  Blaming the economy, more and more people are “postponing Christmas” in order to take advantage of After-Christmas/New Year’s bargains.  A silent Christmas Day.  Barren, empty trees.  Cold ovens.  A day like any other.  My heart sank as I read of people using the day to catch up on e-mails and television programs. 

      Whatever happened to a collective celebration of peace, goodwill, and the best birthday on earth?

      Maybe it’s the creative genes of my DNA.  Maybe it’s because Christmas is my favorite holiday and, like Bob Cratchit, the joy of the season is in the forefront of my mind all year long.  Maybe it’s my unshakeable belief that Christmas is and always will be a birthday celebration.  Whatever the root cause, I cannot fathom the reasoning that Christmas is about gifts.  After a quick search on the Internet, I have understood the meaning of the word “gift” to be “something one person voluntarily gives to another”.  Nowhere in my search for the definition of “gift” did I see the phrase, “The true meaning of Christmas”.  Nowhere did I find that a gift is, “That which is demanded by the recipient and accepted only if the name brand, color, features, and manufacturer are deemed worthy and acceptable by said recipient.”  I don’t remember seeing any wording that a gift can be described as, “A pacifier begrudgingly shuffled to the custody of a screaming, demanding individual to avoid disappointment and possible verbal abuse”.

      It’s appalling, really.

      This year is a difficult year for a lot of people, and I am no exception.  Job loss, unrelenting bad luck, and cars I can’t wait to shove over a cliff have rendered this year one of the toughest I’ve known in a long time.  The Yankee and I have no money to shower our friends and family members with gifts as we would love to do, but I’ll be darned if I’m going to wait until January.  I’ll be darned if I’m going to look my family members in the eye and say, “Thank you for the lovely gift.  So sorry I have nothing for you.”  No.  I refuse to be that person.  I am using my brain, my creative genes, and the bits I have around the house to make sure everyone has something special. 

      Don’t misunderstand me.  I am not saying for a moment that gift giving is a shallow exercise; far from it.  I thoroughly enjoy the entire process and would miss it if it were not a part of our celebration.  I am, however, emphasizing that Christmas is not about what packages are under the tree.  It is, first and foremost, a celebration of those we love and the reasons we love them.  It is a time for us to shower our loved ones with our affection and gratitude.  If this means lovingly handmade paper dolls for little Shannon, a newspaper kite for Billy, and a cup of hot tea under the Christmas night sky with your sweetie, then so be it.  I am merely questioning what priorities we have allowed ourselves to worship when a handmade gift or a meaningful conversation is “not good enough”.  So what if your Christmas dinner is a tuna-noodle casserole?  What if the only gift you can offer your children is a day of your undivided attention?  What if the diamonds you wanted to give your wife have now been replaced by a heartfelt love letter outlining every reason you can think of why you love her?  Throw in a soft, slow dance in front of the fire and she’ll brag about you to her friends.  What if the surround sound system you wanted to give your husband is now a handmade candy from his childhood?  Bald head and crows feet or not, he’ll have that look of a happy little kid that somehow makes the winter seem a little less frozen.

      For me, Christmas is a celebration of a birthday.  It is the joyous remembrance of the greatest Gift the world has ever received.  It is a day to put aside our differences and relish the time we have with each other.  It is the opportunity to solemnly vow to improve the world around us a little bit each day.  It is a time to cherish those we still have with us and remember those who have gone on before us.  It is a sacred, holy, honorable holiday full of love and gratitude.  It is a holiday of epic, eternal significance.  

      It is Christmas.  And I defiantly refuse to wait until it goes on sale.

© Bertha Grizzly 2011.  All Rights Reserved.  No duplication or distribution.

A Penny Saved Is Still Worth One Cent

     I was browsing the Internet one boring afternoon when I stumbled across an article entitled, “Five Ways to $ave Big Money!”  My interest was piqued, partly out of irritation at the use of the dollar sign in a flagrant attempt at being cute.  I was further irritated when I saw the article was written by someone named “Penny”.  I know the poor woman can’t help what her parents named her, but I couldn’t help but have a distinctive feeling that this entire article was staged.  After scolding myself for being pessimistic, I clicked on the article and decided I would read with an open mind and a firm resolve to do whatever the article suggested.  After all, “Penny’s” bio indicated she was a successful stock trader and author.

      Tip #1: $ave money on your water bill by showering at the gym.  My shoulders shook with an acerbic, snide chuckle as I read this first tip, but I had determined that I would follow these tips as penance for pessimism at the outset, so I got on the phone.  I called the gym with the reputation for being the largest, most state-of-the-art facility in the city: “Hi, I was wondering if you could tell me if you have showers at your facility?  You do?  Wonderful.  Also, do you have early morning, late evening, and weekend hours?  Yes?  Fantastic.  Now, do I have to call and make an appointment for a shower or do I just show up whenever I feel dirty?  No, not that kind of dirty.  What? … I assure you, madam, I am not a prank caller.  I just read an article on how to save money and … I see.  No, no you don’t need to call the police.  I was just looking at this website and … hello?  Hello?”  So much for my water bill. 

      Tip #2:  $ave money by reusing your sandwich bags.  This one sounded more optimistic than that last fiasco, so I decided to take a serious look.  I quickly estimated how many sandwich bags I use in a year.  I then figured that at least half of them were filled with greasy, messy, mayonnaise-y, peanut-buttery messes so those would have to be discarded.  Of the other half, at least half of those were split down the side by The Yankee’s firm belief that sandwiches need to be filled to the point that they cannot fit into the average human mouth in one bite.  That leaves us with one-fourth of the sandwich bags in our household that might possibly be reusable.  If I washed those sandwich bags, taking out money for soap and my water bill (which is now higher than I was hoping, thanks to the skittish receptionist at the gym), I would save approximately $2.44 per year!  Oh my gosh!  Thank you, Penny, thank you!  If I put that money in a high-yield account and promise not to touch the principle, at the end of the decade I can treat myself to a small cola at the movies.  And all because I took Penny’s insightful advice.  Oh, Penny, you are a marvel.

      Tip #3: $ave money on parking meters by having your driver circle the block while you pick up your Egyptian cotton sheets from the laundry service.  I think milk came out of my nose when I read this one.  Driver?  My experiences with “drivers” are limited to: 1) my bus driver in elementary school who blew a whistle whenever the whippersnappers was a-gettin’ too loud, 2) the guy with the gold tooth who swerved his taxi so hard, I grabbed his dreadlocks and screamed, “Here’s 20 bucks!  Pull over!  For the love of mike, PULL OVER!!”, and 3) riding with The Yankee through inner-city traffic and praying I would make it home alive.  When he looked over at me and said, “Why are you so limp with your eyes closed?”  I said, “I’m totally relaxed because I heard that’s how the drunks survive crashes.”  Seriously, does “Penny” really think the average Joe has a “driver”?!  And “laundry service”?  This woman is funnier than most of the comedians on TV!

      Tip #4:  $ave money on vacations - consider flying coach.  I’m definitely sure milk came out of my nose when I read this one.  After I looked up the word “vacation” in my dictionary to be sure I knew what that actually was, I flipped back to the letter “F” and looked up “flying” … wasn’t sure what that was either.  The last time I went on a real, honest-to-goodness vacation, my dad said good old American pay phones would always trump something as faddish and fly-by-night as a “car phone”.  Then he picked up his folded map, mockingly held it to his ear, and pretended to talk to the president.  My brother, Wolverine, who was sitting in the back window cutting his teeth on that belt thing bolted to the seat, laughed along with the rest of us.   

      Tip #5: $ave money on lunches by having your waiter put half of your dinner in a box for tomorrow’s lunch.  This time, I laughed so hard, I fell down and hit my head.  Concussion or not, I had promised myself I would follow through with each tip, so I decided that since we eat dinner out about 4 times a year, I would have to commit this tip to memory.  Sure enough, 3 months later, we were having our special night out and I remembered this valuable tip.  I asked to have half of my meal in a box for tomorrow’s lunch.  Tonya, my favorite drive-thru manager at the “Sammich Hut”, drummed her six-inch fuchsia fingernails on her wireless headset and said, “You want yo sammich cut in half, you take it home and cut it all by yo bad self.” 

      Well, Penny, I tried.

© Bertha Grizzly 2011.  All Rights Reserved.  No duplication or distribution.