The End of Gifts

My wife ruined the holiday for me this year.

Not because I couldn't find her anything as a worthwhile gift. I couldn't, that's true, but that's to be expected. I finally gave up after realizing I'm really good at extemporaneous gift giving through out the year, just not at the pre-scheduled times as dictated by the Hallmark Company. She can wait until March to get something good and for now will have to live with the boring crap I found for her.

No, she ruined it with one of her typical screeds against the way my side of the family does gift shopping -- i.e., we spend until we can spend no more... and then we sign up for more credit cards so we can shop again.

I'm used to this drivel. She was raised to spend a limited (I think the nonsense term she uses is "reasonable") amount on people at the holidays (and birthdays, another event where we Griffith's over do it). Such spening habits basically means everyone gets a shirt.

I keep very careful track of my spending at Xmas. My parent's instilled in my brother and I very early on that a sense of fairness is paramount and there's no greater sense of fairness than making sure you spend the exact same amount on everyone. I keep a spreadsheet where I carefully can keep up to date who much I spend on select people, plus the overall totals spent. It’s a very scientific process.

But the Wife, of course, thinks we all spend to much. She's embarrassed when she gets more gifts at my parent's house than at her own. To which I say, "who gives a rat's ass?" If it’s the thought that counts, the giving is more important than the receiving, than dammit, I would submit to you my family is more in the spirit than anyone.

None of that bothered me.

But in one of her tirades, she did say something to the effect of "imagine how many charities would benefit from the amount of money you spend each year at the holidays." That has had me thinking ever since, curse my hairy Left-leaning hide.

Of course the arguments against this are numerous, not the least of which is by spending in stores I'm helping lift the US economy (though this leaves a bad taste in my mouth, as I'd rather it got better after Howard Dean becomes president, just in case). But her point is still a good one. If I took the exorbitant amount of cash I laid out this past couple of months and it found its way to, I dunno, the CBLDF, or the local Hangar Theatre, or the Tompkins County SPCA, or even the ACLU... would that be better?

I've mentioned before that Xmas morning with my family is one of the great highlights of the year, but as I grow older it does become more of a hassle and struggle than ever to find gifts that are both worthwhile (maybe 50% are) or surprising (probably only 25%). And of that, how many are memorable? Maybe the presence of my nephew will change all that, but this year he's only 10 months old and is far more likely to be fascinated by the shiny paper and how he fits into cardboard boxes than he is the cool alligator bank we bought him on Cape Cod last summer.

And how would I even broach such a subject with my family?

"Hey, mom and dad, so you know how you guys spend a few grand each Xmas on us all, and we love it (because I love getting stuff, and books, and toys) and I love getting you stuff, and we've enjoyed this for over three decades, and it is a family tradition in a family with, lets face it, few traditions...so what do you think about donating all that money instead? We'll just go out and have waffles..."

Big *sigh*.

Maybe I'll just start donating more to charities throughout the year. The wife only has herself to blame if it eats into the money I'd use to buy her gifts on the fly. I can use the charity thing as a deflection when I don't buy her flowers ever again.

The Bestest Friend Ever

There is no truer friend in the annals of fiction than Samwise Gamgee.

But the best scene in the film was Eowyn cutting off the head of the Nazgul's ride. Cool.

The Biggest Holiday Waste

My wife just sent out an e-card to an "undisclosed recipient" list (mostly dog people she knows, and me). It has animated Labradors in it, and a guy in tights playing a recorder. And doves. (You can see it here.)

It's cute if you like that sort of thing, but outside of the dogs, the best thing about it is that it was electronic.

That's because I find Xmas cards to be the biggest waste of good paper and precious cardboard that exist these days. I'm no fan of any kind of occasion card... valentine's day, birthdays, whatever. They are only good for two things: including a letter or note (I do especially enjoy getting notes from people at Xmas about how they're year went, or pictures of their kids and dogs that I never see... my cousin Michelle went from doing a big letter each year to now just sending a pic of her new baby sitting with their beagle, which is just as nice) or including money. Checks and money orders accepted, but PayPal is preferred.

I especially despise getting cards from vendors and public relations people in the industry I work in. Lame.

(I admit, I do have a fascination with those cards [and books and posters and calendars] with pictures of puppies taken with a wide angle lens. But I still haven't bought any.)

My position on cards, of course, offends people. Tough crap. If you're thinking of me, make a phone call. If you're an obscure relative, save the save your $3.50 and your stamp and make some extra salsa for the next family get-together.

I am admittedly the most materialistic of people on this, our greatest commercial holiday in the United States, if not the world, but dammit, I want my materials to last a while! You seen one Xmas card, you've seen them all. And my paper recycle bin is already full to bursting, now that I'm past the date of being able to order through catalogs this year.

MIA: One Irrational Exuberance

I will preface this by saying I know nothing about the stock market. I understand the spellcasting of students at Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry better. (And yet I'm probably the only person in my immediate family who's ever even purchased and sold stock outside of a 401k.)

I remember rather vividly where I was in the year 1999 when the Dow Jones Industrial Average first went above 10,000 points. I was in a car on the way up Interstate 91 in Massachusetts, headed toward Vermont for some reason, probably shopping. I wasn't driving, which added to the novelty. At the time, Bon and I still lived in our first house in Mass., and I was working for a dotcom after the move by FamilyPC to NYC ad sent me to the world of dot-bombs.

The radio say the Dow had crossed the 10,000 mark for the first time and I was giddy. Having purchased stock in Ziff-Davis (the owners of FamilyPC) the year before and watching as it slowly eroded from the $15 per share I spent down to what seemed nothing (though I did sell it at a quick spike of $22 per share), I took this milestone for the stock market to mean things couldn't go wrong. We were all going to live the life of Riley. I figured I was only a few months away from my first solid-gold toilet seat. I'd have settled for Titanium.

So what's different? Yesterday the Dow again crossed the 10K mark -- the first time in 18 months. And lets face it, in May 2002 ago, things looked more dire then they do today. (Economically, that is. Politically and with the war, the US is just as screwed as it has been since Clinton left office). The LA Times calls the crossing of 10K a "dramatic comeback" since it went as low as 7,286 in October 2002. For some, it’s an "important psychological barrier" to cross. And ultimately, I guess it’s a sign of growth in the economy, which is what everyone wants.

But man oh man, it felt so much better back in 1999.

The Show Goes On

At home, my 34th birthday has been over for a couple of hours. But I'm out in San Jose, Calif., working at the tradeshow my company throws that's related to my site, so it's still my birthday here.

My birthday ended really on Sunday, Nov. 30, after I got some great gifts from my folks and my brother -- a new gas grill, XM Satellite radio, and a dog will a belly full of old, rancid turkey-flavored peanut oil. I only got to play with the last one. It apparently is true, Dawn does take grease out of your way, especially when used to wipe down the ass of a Labrador that has had grease based diarrhea for 12 hours.

I didn't get to stay and care for my ailing mutt for long, as I had to catch a flight out of Syracuse for the show. Last year, I left on my actual birthday for this same show, and ended up arriving at the Rochester airport to find my flight cancelled. I thought I was heading for the same problem in Syracuse, but only got delayed…. Tho that was long enough that my mad dash across O'Hare in Chicago meant while I made it to Cal-ee-for-nee-uh only a ½ hour late, my luggage was about 18 hours behind me. I ended up giving my talk today (Installing a Home WLAN with more than capable partner in crime and comedy, Joe M.) in the same clothes I wore on the planes yesterday.

Still, if you have to be a tradeshow on your birthday, it couldn't be better than to do it with friends. Joe's here and Vik (who worked with me at Access and now works on Wi-Fi Planet with me) is here, and that makes it actually good. Tonight we were going to go off and have tapas for dinner and started with some drinks with a vendor and PR person who I was enjoying the company of so much, I invited them to dinner. Maybe my schmooze gene is kicking in again? It's so underutilized sitting in the basement all day. (Even better, they bought all the drinks and dinner. I miss having a decent expense account. $50 per diem a day my ass.)

So, it's after 11, time for bed. I should really write a story for tomorrow, but instead I'll get up early. Then it's write, moderate a panel, meet with vendors to judge them for best of show awards, moderate another panel, meet with other judges to find out who wins, get some dinner, drive Joe to the airport, then write up a story about the award winners. Tomorrow will be hell day here. Thursday it calms down again. Friday, we'll all be wondering why we didn't schedule earlier flights out and I'll just be counting the seconds to my red-eye. Luckily my new iPod, my glorious 20GB MP3 Player purchased for me by the woman who lets me share her bed, is filled with about 6 days worth of audio, including an 8-hour book on tape. That will hopefully keep me busy.

Now, sleep.