That's Holden's sister, Phoebe, talking. Holden has run out of spending money, and Phoebe is trying to give him her Christmas money. She hasn't done any of her holiday shopping. She only has eight dollars and eighty-five cents.
Funny thing, Phoebe has about as much money as I do this year to spend on Christmas. I started my shopping this evening on Amazon. I'm not a big fan of huge retailers, and I think Amazon is killing the independent booksellers. However, when you're strapped for cash, you can't really beat Amazon and Walmart. There's reasons why everything they sell is so cheap. First, they don't pay their employees living wages. Second, all their merchandise is made by seven-year-olds in sweatshops in China and Guam. And, third, they're run by soulless millionaire and billionaire Republicans.
I started my Christmas shopping finally this evening. I couldn't avoid it any longer. My sister lives in Utah, so I have to plan a little ahead for her kids. She has four boys and two girls. Many years ago, I instituted the rule of buying only books for my nieces and nephews. I got a little tired of the endless lists of gadgets and games and phones and computers and laptops. Everyone knows now that Uncle Marty gives the written word for Christmas.
I went to my daughter's Christmas band concert tonight. But it's not called a Christmas concert. It's called a "Winter" concert, which is a load of crap. Any concert in which I hear three different versions of "Jolly Old Saint Nicholas" is a Christmas concert. And the music filled me with the Christmas spirit enough to make me click onto Amazon when I got home.
Dear God,
I know that money and expensive presents aren't the reason for Christmas. I know about sacrifice and humility and charity. I know about giving unto the least of my brothers and sisters. I learned all that stuff in religion class when I was a kid.
But there's so much that I can't do this year. So much that I simply don't have the energy and spirit for. I'm not dreaming of a white Christmas. I'm not decking any halls. I'm not singing with any choirs of angels.
And that's what I'm praying for tonight. It's a Christmas prayer. I want to experience a little joy this holiday season. I'm not asking for a full-blown George Bailey moment. I'll be satisfied with something simple, small.
A phone call from a friend. A beautiful song on the radio. A new job. A multimillion-dollar lottery jackpot.
I'm not asking for much.
Your faithful servant,
Saint Marty
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| I don't really miss this... |
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