Modine on Christmas shopping

What we need more of at Christmastime is atheists, like my gentleman friend Lust. He ain't no problem to shop for. I don't buy him nothing.

Everybody else is a problem.

I am thinking about this because Thanksgiving is coming up. And the day after Thanksgiving is when everybody and their cousin jams into the mall to start Christmas shopping.

What they should be doing is laying on their couch at home, sleeping off their turkey. For one thing, everybody is bigger the day after Thanksgiving than they were the day before, which means the stores are even more packed. If every person in a crowd of 1000 gained one pound at Thanksgiving, that is 1000 more pounds squeezed into the store. If every one gained two pounds, which is more likely, that's 2000 pounds -- approximately the size of a half-grown elephant. Right there in Wal-Mart with you.

Also they are grouchy, being as their blood sugar is off because of all the pecan pie they ate yesterday. And if they are trying on clothes, the clothes are too tight, and that don't improve anybody's mood. We would probably have mass riots to start our Christmas season with, if anybody had the energy.

Everybody has a different idea about Christmas shopping. Some people buy, as presents, something they really want for theirselves, but can't afford because they got to spend their money on Christmas shopping. This can get ugly. Like when my friend Awlette give me them dangly fake ruby earrings which matched HER new red velvet dress. Thank God I thought fast and told her she could borrow them back for New Year's Eve.

Other people ask up front what each person wants and then buy exactly that, even if it means going out to Larry's World o' Lizards for a salamander in a bowl. Generally those people are your kids' grandmaw.

Then there is the type that gives away old gifts they don't want. Say, for instance, you are the mayor of New Orleans and you invited 17,000 people to your wedding and even though you included in the invitation a list of the stores where you are registered, every one of the 17,000 gives you, say, a blender. So there you are with 17,000 blenders. Well, some people in that situation would give blenders for Christmas, Easter and every birthday right into the third millenium. Who could blame them?

Other people buy the same thing for everybody. My mother-in-law, Miss Larda, does that every once in awhile. One time she watched Len Cannon on Dateline NBC talking about what to do if you happen to get absent-minded and drive your car into the water. That year, we all find under the Christmas tree, a tool for slashing off your seat belt and breaking the car window. And there is a card which reads, "BE CAREFUL ON BRIDGES, but if you're not, use this. Merry Christmas."

Another year she gets us each one of them special cat litter boxes with the built-in strainers. You know what I mean? You lift out the inside box, which is a plastic grate containing all the -- let's call them "lumps" -- and dump them in the toilet. This is supposed to be less disgusting than clawing through the box with a cat litter scoop. She forgets everybody don't have cats. Like my sister-in-law, Larva. But Miss Larda just tells her it is a new sanitary way to wash lettuce leaves. You place the pans across your sink, add the lettuce, run water over it, and then left up the tray and let them dry. Larva actually uses this once or twice before some busybody points out what this box actually is for. And then she is very upset, even though Miss Larda swears to her this is a pristine box that never even been NEAR any kitty poo.

I got no idea what Miss Larda has in mind for this year. But I can tell you this. My brothers-in-law Leech and Lurch ain't going to try what they did last year. Now, they ain't what you would call big spenders. Usually they wait until the last minute and get every family a bottle of Boone's Farm wine. Which actually ain't so bad. We know ahead of time we are not going to have to spend too much on their presents.

But last year they pass it around that they are going all out. They are going to spend $50 on each and everybody's gift.

So naturally we all bump up our budgets for them. I myself go out and get them each a Saints sweatshirt and hat and a Saintsations calendar.

Then comes Christmas and they hand us each a envelope. Inside it is a card, with little fat naked angels all around the edges, and it says in fancy writing, "The Sum of $50 in Your Name has been Donated to the St. Expedite Charity for Poverty-Stricken and Wayword Erchins."

It's the "Wayword Erchins" that gives it away. Plus, my sister-in-law Gloriosa used to be secretary at a rectory and she knows about St. Expedite. There ain't no such charity is what it boils down to. Them two tricked us into buying them good gifts while they spent maybe $5.95 on a bunch of cards they had made up at some copy shop. Miss Larda is furious. She tells them lightning should strike them for blasphemy. And then she strikes them.

Well, the upshot is them two make a trip to the bank, and we all get day-after-Christmas gift certificates.

My gentleman friend Lust don't know how good he has it.