Relative Something

It’s getting to be that time of year when lists appear for all sorts of reasons, most of them intended to help sell magazines. I think the most important list is probably the one we make ourselves. I usually find myself balking over the activity, but sometimes I just give in and go wild with lust for consuming. The ‘Wish List’ is an age-old method of letting your Santa know what it is your heart desires. I’m a bit surprised that some new-age techno solution hasn’t replaced the simple list in this day and age. Why in the heck don’t we register at our favorite stores like engaged couples do? For all the ways that the winter holiday has been co-opted by the retail sales industry, it seems to me we could streamline the whole process even more by just direct-shipping the items to the address provided by the registrant.

Of all the holiday advertising that bombards my innocent efforts to just watch a sports event or crime drama on television, the ones that I find to be missing the target audience by the widest margin are the commercials priming me to purchase an automobile as a gift for my loved ones. Yet, the silver car with a big red bow on the top is becoming the most prolific image I see now in my head. Ain’t gonna happen. I miss the image of the Erector Set, or even, the electric shaver that moves through the snow like a sled.

My wish is for less attention to material things. Slip a little peace on earth in my stocking and I’m good to go for another year. If you wanna slip a little love, with time to share it, into a package under the tree, I wouldn’t find it objectionable.