Those who have husbands or fathers–is it not a tradition that men will be out shopping on Christmas Eve? When I worked retail, Christmas Eve was almost all male customers, and Christmas Eve shopping has generally been true of the men in my life. It cracks me up. Tom and I agreed not to buy each other anything big this year, since our home improvements are the gifts we are giving ourselves. But of course, I’m always picking up things here and there for him. So he decided to look at my Amazon wish list and get an idea or two of things he could get me while he’s out running errands (and trust me, running errands is already a HUGE gift to me because he’s doing some of mine).
Now knowing what he was up to, when I got a box from my Secret Santa from his family, I thought I’d best open it, just in case… And sure enough, almost everything on my wish list was in the box. So I called Tom and began naming items. Somehow, he missed hearing me say the ONE item that he was holding in his hand as he stood in line to pay. Only later, during our second or third phone call, did I go through the list again because I’d found something else in the box. This time, he heard what he’d already bought. BACK TO BORDERS. (I can think of far worse fates than another trip to a bookstore, though maybe not on Christmas Eve…)
Meanwhile, one of the errands he ran early this morning was picking up a gift card for our mail carrier. You’re not supposed to gift them with cash, so we go the gift card route. When the aforementioned package was delivered, a DIFFERENT mail carrier snagged the envelope off the mailbox. I was all distressed, wondering if our mail carrier would get his gift. The dogs alerted me later that he was walking by–why do dogs hate mail men?–so I dashed out faster than a reindeer FLIES and he hollered at me from the house next door, “THANK YOU!” Apparently, the other mail carrier gave him the card. That made me so happy–not only that he got his gift, but that his coworker was honorable.
When I watched Elizabeth II’s 1957 Christmas address last night, I was struck by her mention of the age of cynicism. Who knew this was a topic fifty years ago, just as it is today. I remember watching Carol Burnett’s interview on Inside the Actor’s Studio years ago when she said her least favorite word is “cynicism.” I immediately adopted it as my least favorite word, too. I think cynicism is demoralizing and crippling. The reason that I do often sound Pollyanna-ish is because I don’t want to ever become cynical. I like believing in things like the magic of the universe and the goodness of people and that in time, all things will come out the way they should and will be okay.
So what I wish for all the people I care about is that this season, and the coming year, brings them a little less cynicism and a little more hope. And I also wish redleatherbound a happy birthday!
In green velvet, 1991 Holiday Barbie with Jamal