What do I want for Christmas? Just get me anything. I’m easy like Sunday morning. Socks, sweaters, a crisp stack of twenties shoved inside a brown paper bag. It’s totally up to you.
I’m honestly not fussy. Christmas is a time for family. The gifts don’t matter to me at all. If I should stumble downstairs Christmas morning to a stocking stuffed with boodle, then so be it. But don’t feel the need to go out of your way getting me something. A visit from Andy Jackson and three of his brothers would more than suffice.
I have to say, last year I was so touched by all the wonderful presents. To have such loving friends and family put so much thought into getting me something special meant the absolute world to me. It’s always better to receive something truly personal. Not that impersonal isn’t great too. In fact, often it’s preferable. No one’s feelings can be hurt if everybody gets the same green rectangles, right? Nothing says “We don’t have a favorite” like an equal amount of moolah falling onto the kitchen table as my sister and I pretend to read the card.
There’s no need to ask around the office about what I’m into. Secret Santa is no biggie. Your friendship is more than enough for yours truly this holiday season. Under no circumstances should you drive into town, turn left at the Cinnabon, carry on another 100 yards until you get to CVS, go inside, find the ATM, and take out a couple of Benjamins. That’d be way too much trouble. Besides, the Citibank is much closer.
We’ve all been there. You take a wild stab at somebody’s shirt size and nervously blurt out, “The receipt is in the bag.” Then we have the awkwardness of “Will he return it? Won’t he return it?” I mean, I’m definitely going to return it.
But what if—and roll with me here—you just gave me the cash instead? Can’t have a receipt if you don’t make a purchase. Just think of it as cutting out the middle man. So, next time you dangle your wallet over the counter at Target, stop and think to yourself, “Maybe this t-shirt of four Stormtroopers crossing Abbey Road isn’t the way to go.”
What I truly want this Nöel is for us all to take a stand against waste. All the wrapping paper and bows, not to mention the non-biodegradable Scotch Tape. I’m just worried our climate is at breaking point. Now, say if everybody each received one envelope at Christmas. That would probably be fine. And inside that envelope could be—I don’t know—paper that would never be thrown so carelessly into the trash. Paper that would never end up in a landfill due to its value. Paper that would be in constant circulation no matter what.
Maybe it’s something to think about. You know, for the planet.
See, this is what I’m talking about! George Bailey doesn’t need any fancy gifts to understand the true meaning of Christmas. All he needs are his loved ones by his side. Sure, it’s a nice gesture that they’re pouring comically-sized wicker baskets full of bills onto his dining table. Money certainly isn’t everything, though. And he most definitely, 100% was not going to kill himself because of it.
Okay, all this talk about presents has been fun. But what’s even more fun at Christmastime? Charades. Hey, I’ve got one! Movie. Two words. First word…I’m pretending to be a mouse…the nasty cat is coming to get me… Jerry. You got it! Second word… I’m doing the Spider-Man hands… Nope, not Holland… not Garfield… Bingo! Maguire. Put them together and you get… That’s right, Jerry Maguire! Good job!
Now, what was that famous line again?