Dog Gone

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© 2001-2002 R.C. Barajas

he stores have it all wrong.

They design their ad campaigns around cheer and joy and the kind of inner peace that can only come from tearing the wrapping paper off the latest model geegaw. They show families crooning toothily over the roast beef and passing the endless sides that pepper the perfectly set table. They show a couple insuring marital bliss when the man smoothly garrotes the wife's flawless neck with a timeless (now 50% off!) diamond necklace. Marital bliss, maybe, but one is left with the definite impression, by her sly smile and his smug leer, that there is sure to be lots of Yuletide cheer in the bedroom that night.

Am I wrong in thinking that this Christmas should have been different?

Sure, every holiday season the stores -- which count on about 33% of their yearly sales to transpire in those few weeks -- pull out the stops and try anything to get our dollars into their coffers. Most of us tend to look at it all with a mixture of horror and resignation, although I confess to finding more sympathy with Ebenezer each year I revisit him in this or that production of A Christmas Carol. I find myself thinking, "Now wait, guys. Let's hear him out this time." There are certainly some retailers who ought to be buried with a stake of holly through their miserable hearts...

I am not suggesting that this year, we should have spent less. When the economy started flagging and we were asked to go out and spend, spend, spend, our family took up the challenge and went forth and multiplied our debt substantially. The very computer I am writing on might as well be a blazing red, white and blue, rather than the more tasteful gray shimmering translucence it is. This year I didn't mess around with price comparison -- I went straight to Lego direct, spending most of the boys allotted share over the phone to operator # 15. Sure lots of the money's going straight to Denmark, but everyone keeps telling us it's a global economy now -- no country is an island anymore, they say.

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