SHOPPING FRENZY

I would like to dedicate this space to a disinterested criticism of those caught up in the retail frenzy to spend, spend, spend with a detailed analysis of how marketing takes advantage of our insecurities and images of ourselves to drive us to do this, promising that we will achieve some sort of deep satisfaction in this (neverending) pursuit, and how we can buy and give love with just the right gift. I'd like to reflect upon and express my resentment at being part of a culture where I / we are collectively referred to as "consumers" and not "citizens" and assure my reader(s) that I, Chaos Monkey, lofty in her intellectual detachment, would never, EVER partake in such obviously manipulated orgiastic economic endeavors.

But I would be lying.

Yes, it is I frothing at the mouth with credit card in hand going totally overboard with my yule time purchases, eating at the trough of consumer packaged goods, clicking the "Add To My Cart" icon over and over again. It all feels so abstract... I find something I want and then enter the access code printed on this small, irresistibly shiny rectangle of plastic and POOF! Stuff shows up at my door a few days later with no other seeming effort on my part.

This is strange to me. Language is enough of an abstraction to make my head spin, but this? It is so far removed from chasing a wart hog with a spear that I can barely understand it. Nevertheless, a Princess Ballerina Cabbage Patch Doll outfit and a book on non-violent communication will be delivered shortly to my door.

It is like wedding presents... Love can magically produce a set of pasta bowls or monogrammed towels. If you invited the entire country of China, would any of them show up? Or would they perhaps send a gift? Though of course, there is the added catering costs to be considered...

But I digress.

I really enjoy giving gifts, I always have. The first Christmas that my partner and I were together, we had sixty-five gifts to exchange between us -- we opened presents for two weeks. One of my favorite things to do with him (I'm doing it again this year) is to sneak around and get him something that I know he wants but which he won't buy for himself. He'll mention it once, twice, three times and then I'll start asking questions in a seemingly innocent conversational tone, all the while secretly pumping him for information so that I can go get it for him. He is a chatty person by nature, so it is never difficult to get him talking.

The great thing is, he never suspects. Ever. Even though I do this to him all the time. I'll even commiserate with him when he finally decides to go ahead and get whatever it is and then goes back to the store to find that it's gone. Generally, these gifts have been musical instruments that he wants, though one year it was a very specific piece of furniture that I had to quiz him about in detail repeatedly to figure out what he wanted and then to find if it existed. Even after all those questions, he still never suspected.

And this year, the one in a million thing that he wants, the thing that he's gone back to the store to play sixteen times (according to what the owner told me when I went in), the thing that he can't bring himself to be frivolous enough to buy, the thing that he has researched and found that the price is a terrific bargain, the thing that he has considered putting on lay-away until after the holidays, the thing that he will be disappointed to find is gone when he goes back to browse longingly at it again, that thing is under my parents' bed right now. He he he -- I love being sneaky like this.

My partner and I have always enjoyed giving each other gifts and now we have a toddler who is *so* cute to watch. She has such an interesting imagination, and to me giving her "things" is more or less giving her tools to work / play with. She has a really fascinating ability / drive to find new ways to use EVERYTHING. The minute she masters something or figures out how it is "supposed" to work, she immediately tries to find other ways to use the same thing.

For instance, the first time that she finally got the crayon to start drawing lines, she immediately picked up three more crayons and wanted to make four lines at once. Then she started tapping them on the paper, gently and then harder, to make a weird sort of point / scratch technique. Or, she'll "practice" a swirl in the air three or four times before touching the crayon to the paper, then make one careful swoop, stop, look, consider, then go absolutely mad drawing all over the paper with three crayons in each hand.

Balloons sitting in front of a stuffed cow become "cow crackers," her toothbrush in the bathtub is a "juice pop," folds in a blanket become "animal houses," and a discarded upside down rattan magazine rack is her horse, Tipper, aptly named because it tips over if she rides it too vigorously. She'll spend twenty minutes pairing up all of her animals in a circle around the room (each set is a "mama" and a "baby"), or carefully line up fifteen blocks or a troop of small dinosaurs in a perfect row. If she has a castle with little people in it, she'll immediately figure out which other animals will fit into it as well and how many of the irregularly shaped figures she can stack on top of one another.

As you can see, I really enjoy watching her play.

And, though it is technically her third Christmas, this is the first one where she can really enjoy, understand, and open presents all by herself. The first year she was still in the NICU since she had been born ten weeks early, just a couple of weeks before the holidays. Last year she sort of kind of got that she was supposed to tear the paper and play with the stuff inside, but she only wanted to do that for a few minutes before it was time to go eat or do something else.

This year, though, she's ready. Her birthday was a good trial run, though she says repeatedly "No presents!" every time she even hears the words. However, she really gets into opening them once she gets started, as long as you don't call them presents. Actually, Christmas Presents are okay -- it's putting the word "birthday" in front of "presents" that actually annoys her. Hmmm... Apparently where she comes from they don't celebrate the day of someone's birth -- perhaps there was a strong taboo / superstition against it.

She's at the "just about time to officially use the potty all the time" stage, so I thought that a potty book would be a good idea. I read reviews for (no kidding) about fifty kids' potty books. I just didn't want to get anything that gives the idea that having an "accident" is "bad" since we very purposely don't use words like "good" or "bad" to describe anything our children do. I still couldn't decide, so I got four of them ... or five... it was late and I don't actually remember.

She really loves books -- she always has -- so books are a very good gift for her. She has TONS of them, and we also go to the library regularly, but she will go through more than fifty books in a day so they do get a lot of use. She'll also read one book, as long as it's interesting, for an entire hour while we're in the car. She reads it forward, backward, upside down....

Sticker books are also really cool right now since it is a craft / picture thing that she can mostly do herself. And wow -- sticker books are COOL! I would have loved such things when I was a kid. A good friend, wondering what to get a child of mine, was wondering aloud if there was a sticker book for "War And Peace." Now there's a project to undertake....

Then there is the (sigh) Cabbage Patch Doll which is officially from Grandma, but which I suggested for ONE REASON: They are easy to dress. My daughter loves to dress things -- mostly animals -- with old baby clothes. She can't quite manage putting a onesie on an octopus, so it usually requires a lot of help from me. However, CBD outfits are all velcro and easy to manage. And besides -- Grandma got it, not me. (If interrogated I'll stick to that story.)

Hmmm... what else...

Puzzles, musical instruments, a wagon to fill with stuffed animals and pull around the house, a used but serviceable rocking horse capable of more vigorous riding, a pop-up teepee, a stuffed monkey.... jeez, I don't even remember all of it. Between the sleep deprived detachment of late night internet shopping, a trip to Half Price Books and a Big Lots that was going out of business, it's all a blur.

And though I should have regrets, I don't. I'm a totally unrepentant consumer right now and can't wait until Christmas Eve... and Christmas morning... and the next day... and the day after that...

My daughter is going to think that December is a festival season dedicated to a seemingly perpetual stream of gifts flowing in her direction. Due to the scattered nature of family, a birthday party for friends and a couple of snow days which delayed get-togethers, she received birthday gifts nearly every day for over a week and now Christmas will be starting soon.

Though she enjoys it, she also enjoys giving people things, too. She and I made a card for her great-grandma yesterday which she took great joy in giving and she regularly brings toys to her little sister. If she even sees a picture of an empty-handed baby somewhere she tries to bring it a toy, repeating her understanding of the Universal Law which states that all babies need at least one toy to play with. (If the baby ever cries she comes running with a toy for her.) Just as she is beginning to understand the idea of receiving, she is also comprehending giving just as quickly.

Having a small child at the holidays also brings up the philosophical question: What do we do / say about Santa Clause? Is it a harmless holiday tradition, or the beginning of lies and mistrust between parents and children?

I actually researched / thought about this last year and came to the conclusion that people have vastly different experiences regarding learning the (un)reality of Santa Clause -- for some it was no big deal and they enjoyed believing; for others it was a huge trauma. It seems to be somewhat reliant upon how they found out the truth and whether that was a positive or negative experience for them.

We've decided to neither confirm nor deny the existence of Santa Clause, just like we neither confirm nor deny the existence of fairies, elves, space men, gods, or honest politicians. We won't push the belief that some guy broke into our house and left all this stuff under the tree, but we also won't insist that such a being doesn't exist either. There is a "spirit" of Santa whether or not the actual guy in the red suit (who was invented by Coke in the 1930's as part of an ad campaign) flies around, lives at the North Pole, utilizes the slave labor of a bunch of short guys, uses creepy omnipotent surveillance to constantly spy upon all children to see if they're sleeping, awake, etc.. Frankly, I think I'd rather let my kids invent their own mythology about Santa -- it's more fun that way.

So for now I'll be the earthly representative of santaliness in our house and not pretend that it wasn't actually us who bought all of this stuff for our daughter. Perhaps putting it off on someone else, some mythical figure who need not answer for his actions, is the way some parents deal with their own consumer guilt. But, since I'm not experiencing any of this guilt, I'll happily answer for all if it... or at least my half of it since I'm not the only figurative chubby guy in a red suit around here... though I would fill out the suit more convincingly.

Ho ho ho. Merry What The Hell Ever You Celebrate.

So, I'll enjoy my frenzy, thankyouverymuch, even if it requires foaming at the mouth or some other ghastly symptom.

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PS -- This is a great way to really give while giving and is perfect for someone who really does have everything and doesn't want ONE MORE THING in their house.