I have a confession to make: I’m the worst Christmas shopper you’ll ever meet.
I like to think I’m pretty good to great at a lot of things. Thanks to all the cribbage I played as a kid, I’m able to do math in my head quite easily. I can still rattle off all the playoff scores, the postseason overtime goal scorers and the roster for the 1994 Vancouver Canucks.
(The combination of math skills and a keen memory has paid off at the thoroughbred track, especially when I was a kid).
I like to think I’m pretty good at my job, although I’ll let you be the judge of that.
Maybe I’ve dedicated so much time to work and to the pursuit of absolutely useless knowledge that I’ve become deficient at other things in life. Christmas shopping is one of them.
If I really focused on it, I’m sure I’d be really good at buying gifts at this time of the year. My goal is to get my Christmas shopping done as quickly as possible. Not as soon as possible, but do it in rapid fashion. If I don’t start shopping until 10 a.m. on Christmas Eve, I hope to be finished by noon.
My secret? Gift cards. Here’s my reasoning: I don’t know what people will need, but they do. I don’t have much in the way of fashion sense, but they might. If I’m going back to B.C. for Christmas, I might not be able to fit that much-needed gift in my suitcase, but it will fit in trunk of a sports utility vehicle.
You don’t have to spend much time shopping when you’re seeking gift cards.
We have a Secret Santa in the office each year. Usually the person whose name I draw is getting gift cards and other simple items. Creative? No. Glamourous and funny? No. But who doesn’t need a gift card for groceries or a restaurant meal at this time of year?
I’m equally pragmatic when it comes to my own Christmas wish list. Get me what I need, not what I want. A couple of pairs of pants, a couple of nice shirts, maybe some scratch and win lottery tickets, and I’m a happy camper.
It can’t be fragile. If I’m in B.C. for Christmas, it has to make it back to Saskatchewan safely. I really don’t have time to check my suitcase and clothes for tiny fragments of glass.
The decorations at my place are pretty bland. I have a nice string of Christmas lights that adorn the railing of my condo, and I have a Vancouver Canucks stocking that I hang each year. This year, I want to add a small brown paper bag to the top.
When you consider that I have spent most of my Christmases in B.C. since moving out here, including, hopefully, this year, it doesn’t make much sense to drop a lot of money on decorations. If I have a bunch of decorations, I have to find room for all of them. Space is at a premium in my condo.
I enjoy Christmas music, although I can only hear White Christmas so many times. I enjoy the Christmas movies and television specials. I laugh myself silly each year when Mr. Bean gets his head stuck in a turkey.
And, as I’m sure you can imagine, I’m rather fond of Christmas meals, drinks and socials.
This is not a knock against those who do great things when it comes to Christmas in the community. I enjoy going to the Estevan Farmers’ Market Christmas sales, the Estevan Kinette Club craft show (although I didn’t make it this year) and all the other great Christmas sales in the area, and seeing the skill and creativity of the vendors, and the excitement of the shoppers. There are some magnificent people out there who are wonderfully skilled and creative, and who will create that perfect gift for someone.
And somebody out there will purchase that ideal gift.
We have some great businesses in the community that have some wonderful items for Christmas each year.
But I also know that these things aren’t going to be my thing. I marvel at them. I wish I could create something incredible. But I can’t.
So I turn to my old reliable. My wheelhouse.
Please don’t judge me when you see me looking for that perfect present – from the gift card rack.
