This truly is the most wonderful time of the year.
As a child, I loved Christmas. Apart from those pesky socks and underpants that kept making their way to my gift pile under the tree, there was unbridled joy at each present that came to life when the wrapping was torn from around it. Christmas songs played in the background, and all seemed right in the world as parents and children alike were in the best of moods.
And then I got a little older and Christmas didn’t mean as much to me. During my high school years, spending time with my family was an activity I tried to avoid at all costs. It was really little to do with them, and more to do with the muddled mind of a teenager that put more emphasis on spending time with friends than with the people who actually loved you.
My little disdain for Christmas stuck around for a while, to be honest. The commercialization of the day and the sugary made-for-T.V. specials that littered my prized television-viewing time made my head want to explode. I turned into Scrooge.
But as I’ve gotten a bit older, and have acquired the ability to see the forest through the trees, I’ve learned to love the holiday again. See, it’s no longer about receiving gifts or listening to my father’s corny jokes when I’d rather be at a party with my friends or suffering through another ridiculously corny sitcom about a ridiculous family and their ridiculous Christmas traditions — no, it’s now about people. That’s it.
It’s about spending time with people and finding that perfect gift that you know will mean a lot to them. With that spirit in mind, I share with you some ideas I’ve had for some mythical gifts for the staff here at the Coastal Point.
For our publisher and my dear friend, Susan Lyons, I present to you a $1 million “Coastal Delaware Yard Sales Association” gift card. Yup, it’s a fictional organization at this point, but that would be the gift of a lifetime, wouldn’t it?
For our art director and favorite resident Eskimo, Shaun Lambert, I present to you the world. The entire world. Yes, I know it would be more gratifying for you to overtake the world step-by-step in World of Warcraft, but this will cut down on the time a little bit, and you can claim as many of those Mr. T mohawks from the commercial as you’d like.
For our news editor and my fellow word enthusiast, M. Patricia Titus, I would like to give you a buzzing device that will permit you to zap a reporter every time he or she uses the word “then” in the wrong context. I know you’re a pacifist by nature, but, come on ... that would be cool.
For reporter and famed Kahlua-maker Ryan Saxton, I’d like to give you the ability to see through walls — or, at least the ability to see people’s hole cards.
For reporter and activist Monica Scott, well, I’d like to give you about nine extra hours a day. Between work, the kids and your interests, I worry about your sleeping habits. (This is an act of self-preservation, as a well-rested Monica is less likely to scare me.)
For new reporter and avid traveler Maria Counts, I give you patience to deal with the rest of this staff. I know editorial meetings with this crowd can be daunting, to say the least. Sometimes, I just want to put on a giant fake hand and make a collective group slap ...
But I digress.
For graphic artist and “Family Guy” aficianado Bob Bertram, I’d like to give you one job title that sticks for the whole year. Yeah, not going to happen. Take this lovely bird as a parting gift.
For graphic artist and resident bully Jaime McNamee, I would like to give you whatever you’d like that will keep you from terrorizing me. Just name your price. Yes, the peace is worth that much to me.
For photographer and philosopher Jesse Pryor, your present would be the underwater housing for your camera that you want so much for swimming photos. Granted, it’s a shoe box with a hole in the end, but I’m on a budget.
For classified diva and security guard Jane Johnson, I give to you five minutes of my time. I know I blow past you constantly coming in and out the door. For Christmas, I’ll stop and smell the roses for a second.
For advertising rep and designated tough guy, Susan Mutz, I present to you a bracelet with the phrase “WWRD?” — you know why.