I can’t take it anymore.
I always get really angry this time of year. Retailers are doing their best to get me to spend every last cent I have on stuff to give to my friends and family.
For years, I have been under the impression that this time of year was to be about peace and goodwill toward our fellow man. So I combated the reality of the season by being in a bad mood and tried to get everyone around me to follow suit. It didn’t work.
This year, I have given up on asking for world peace, the end of hunger, politicians obtaining backbones, the press to stop being prejudiced toward Republicans and Lake Nighthorse to open. Nope, I’m going after stuff.
Because I haven’t asked for stuff in such a long time, I was at a loss for whom to ask. I was not going to the mall to sit on some old guy’s lap, aka Santa Claus, and tell him what a good man I’ve been.
I was in a quandary until I saw an ad from a retailer about coming into its store. Men, if you are older than 60, I have found the place we need to go. I am going to Victoria’s Secret and visit with Miss Claus (MC). Imagine the surprise our wives will have when we tell them we want to go the mall with them. This is going to be great.
I plan on getting there really early because I know MC will tire out from all of us overweight guys sitting on her lap. I envision standing at the head of the line and MC, dressed in Victoria’s Secret’s idea of what MC should wear to work, calling me over with a seductive wave of her index finger, and then patting her lap for me to have a seat. She’ll then whisper in my ear, “Tell MC what you’d like for Christmas.” I’ll start to talk and she’ll say, “Whisper it in my ear; you don’t want all those other geezers to know what you want.”
So, being the good man that I am, I comply. Thinking the whole time, “You smell really good.” I get past this and say, “I want a bass boat. Not one of those that looks like a rocket ship, just a small one that I can catch bass, trout, pike and carp from.”
“Go on, MC says.”
I stammer, “My waders are leaking, so a new pair would be nice. And wading boots, too. That will keep my feet warm.”
I’m sure MC will remind me that my wife can keep my feet warm, and I’ll have to let MC know you can’t get two pair of feet into one pair of boots. I’m sure MC doesn’t know how to fly-fish. I’ll then whisper in her ear, “Sunscreen that is thinner than motor oil and smells as good as you do would be nice.” I’m sure she’ll blush at my flirting, but she knows I’m harmless.
As my time is running out, MC will say, “Two more wishes, and it will be time for all the other geezers to have their turn.” Man, time flies when you’re having fun.
For my last two wishes, I say, “I want the leader and tippet manufacturers to stop making line that ties itself into knots, all the while telling me it’s the wind.”
“One more,” I hear quietly in my ear.
“I want to be the man my grandkids and dog think I am.”
“No problem, now look at the camera for your picture with MC.”
I’m going to have it framed and put on the mantel, so I can remember what Christmas is really about.
I want to end with my traditional year-end closing: I wish everyone Feliz Navidad, Happy Hanukkah, a good Eid al-Adha and, of course, Merry Christmas. If none of these fits your beliefs, then may whatever touches your heart with hope be with you all of 2013.
Reach Don Oliver at email@example.com.