"Chaos!"  That's how the survivors describe Christmas Shopping. 

 

In the good old days Christmas shopping used to be fun.  They called me "Crazy Legs Digby" back then.  These days my knees aren't what they used to be.  I need some pretty good blocking if I'm going shopping.  That's why I always take along my lawyer, Clarence Darrow Gnostapopolis.  Now there's a blocker.  Gnostapopolis knows all the right moves.  And for sheer aggression, nothing beats a lawyer. 

 

The only problem is, being men, Gnostapopolis and I don't know diddley-squat about shopping.  Sure we understand the basics:   1)  Find that perfect gift.   2)  Buy it at a store with liberal return policies.   3)  Be sure to get a "gift receipt"  (You don't need to know what a "gift receipt is."  Just ask.  They have to give it to you.  It's part of the Geneva Convention)!   4)  Always gift wrap. 

Gift wrapping is the single most thoughtful, personal bit of attention, you can give the presents you select.  The time you spend wrapping those baubles and bangles adds a real piece of your own individual personality to gift giving.  And, you can hire someone to do it for you. 

 

That's right.  The people at the gift wrapping kiosk in the mall near my house are experts.  Using venerable scientific principles, they select just the right combination of paper, ribbon and bows for the presents I bring them each year.  The Japanese call this "feng shui" (literally: "paper and ribbon nobody else wanted"). 

 

Once all the presents are beautifully wrapped by these professionals, it is almost a shame to open them.  But I have no choice.  I always forget to keep track of who gets which present.  This tragedy can be easily avoided, although apparently not by me. 

 

The folks at the kiosk take this in stride each year.  They are very understanding.  They even give me homemade treats, partially out of pity, but also I suspect, because they recognize me as discerning shoppers who sometimes has the same gift wrapped upwards of three times. 

 

In addition to being a lawyer, Gnostapopolis is a highly placed government official,  so, naturally, this year he commissioned a Government Study of holiday shopping.  I was concerned at first, because we all know government studies cost millions of dollars and don't produce anything (except beach houses for the consultants who do the studies). 

 

Fortunately Gnostapopolis hired Caufbaugh Twilley Consulting to conduct our study.  Twilley has marvelous credentials, although he seems to have "temporarily misplaced them."  Besides, he was low bidder (nearly $1.82 ahead of the others).  Twilley cut out considerable cost on pencils and notebooks by not actually recording the study results.  Gnostapopolis and I can't dependably remember today's complex product names.  And when it comes to women's size, they are different in every departments. 

 

Twilley suggested we begin our study with a visit to the cosmetics counter, where a perky cosmetics clerk promptly told us about the "Happy Gift Basket."  It sounds like Chinese food, but it turned out to be a great marketing idea instead.  

 

 

What's in the basket?  Forget about it.  You'd only be confused.  For instance, Expoliating Cream, only sounds sound like something to take leaves off of trees, but in fact it probably isn't.  And Perfume Por Le Corps is not for making Marines smell better (although it might). 

 

If you stay at the cosmetics counter long enough, asking the perky cosmetics clerk lots and lots of questions, she will soon offer you 20% off on gift wrapping.  She does this mainly because gift wrapping is at another counter very far away for the one where she works. 

 

Oh, and about the study.  Twilley has invited us all to spend a weekend at his new beach house. 

 

-- Horace J. Digby --

Winner of the Robert Benchley Society Award for Humor

hjdigby@lexingtonfilm.com