So today I’m at work as part of the “skeleton crew” that gets to do the employment thing on the day after Thanksgiving. There’s a small number of cars in the parking lot. There’s a handful of my fellow employees here pretending to do some work. I wonder if our web browsing activity is being monitored today.
It’s times like this that I get a little frustrated. I decided to make a smart business decision and eat lunch here at work instead of jetting home like I usually do because I felt I needed to be accessible in the event of some telecommunications catastrophe going on. But who am I really kidding? Everyone is at the mall or at least sitting on the road stuck in traffic trying to get to the mall. I read in the local paper that people were camping outside of the stores as early as last night in hopes of being first in line to get the rock-bottom prices available today only as we’ve been promised since the Fourth of July.
I’m starting to dream of a “Walton’s Christmas” and am considering making Earl a gift that is something useful out of popsicle sticks. But let’s face it, when I was made back in 1968, the crafty gene was left out of the gay mix, so that probably wouldn’t work. Besides, I don’t like popsicles.
Usually by this time of the year I have a mental list of Christmas gifts I’d like to see under the tree. At the very least it provides a stock of answers when I’m asked the inevitable, “What do you want for Christmas?” If I’m going to be quite honest (says he in his best Simon Cowell voice), I don’t really want anything for the holidays this year. I’ve got all I could possibly want and then some. I just want to spend some time with Earl, our relatives and our friends, eat some good food, share some memories and make people laugh. I want to give some hugs. That’s all I really want this year. I don’t need the latest electronic gadget, I’m not pining for anything showy. You know what I really want? Plumbing in the house that doesn’t leak (curse the man that built our house) and a toilet that flushes without having to plead with the pipes that nothing will clog up (curse the man that built our house again). You know what I’d like to give? I’d love to give Earl a state of the art remodeled kitchen, a paid year off from work, a trip around the world in both directions and the guarantee that we’ll win the lottery tonight, all coupled with my undying love (well that last one I can do quite easily). I’d love to take away all the worries that plague my relatives and tell them that everything is good.
So it is officially The Most Wonderful Time of the Year. I just hope everyone remembers that.