As a Brettuns Village newsletter subscriber, our statistics show that you’re above average at work and in sporting activities, a sharp dresser, have an advanced education, are a safe driver, considered by your peers to be an attractive person, and probably own a dog that minds pretty well. Amazing what a business like ours can learn from some basic survey data. A person like you probably has your holiday shopping all done; check marks next to every name on your list. A new hat for cousin so and so, dancing slippers for the nieces and nephews, sandpaper for Uncle Eben up to Palmyra, etc. You put thought into every gift; that’s your style, and you’re widely admired for it. That’s precisely why you didn’t buy a Fidget Spinner for anybody. Not one. It was clear to you that nobody wants one, because nobody wants to stand out in public and make a statement to the world that, “I don’t have anything at all going on in my life right now so, instead, I fidget and I spin.” Who gave you that thing? They clearly had no notion of what makes you tick. Plus, you forgot – again – to hand them your annual list of stuff you don’t/didn’t want. I know the name of that tune, yes I do, and, the last time I heard it, it went a little like this…
Time, now, for the BV Annual List of Stuff I Don’t Want for Christmas...
OK, so I guess I let the cat out of the bag with the fidget spinner thing, but in my opinion that’s the number one item on this year’s list. I say that now so that you still have time to return it/them to the store from whence they came. No returns accepted? Put it in the parrot’s cage or hang it on a string for your own freak show of a cat to play with. Just don’t fidget with it, and don’t even think about sending it to me or Charlie or Gladys or Amanda or Indie or The Mowgs.
Lots of drones with cameras in them on the market these days. Saw one in Sam’s Club over in Augusta the other day for something like $995.00. Look, Elf Boy, get on eBay, search for and then buy yourself a remote control helicopter. They’re about 8 inches long, look cool, and are pretty easy to fly. Twenty bucks. I have learned that these little demons have a short life span – they last from when you take them out of the box until the first time you sneeze or lose total concentration for about a tenth of a second – which is when the helicopter crashes into the living room wall at what would be a scale-corrected 488 miles per hour (or I could give it to you in knots but only old sailors know what that means). I’ll let you decide: When you’re putting the broken pieces into the garbage bag will you feel better about the $20 one or the $995 one? I thought so. Don’t get me a drone.
Indie lobbied hard for this one: No sweaters for dogs. No Christmas sweaters, no sweaters period. I thought dogs liked those things. Live and learn. Also, she said, no fake reindeer antlers. Sheesh.
INDIE’S SPECIAL ALLOCATION
Indie also asked for a Special Allocation this year; an additional item for the list. We said it would be OK, but I don’t think any of us knew what to expect. “No presents of any type for That Cat,” she said.
A SMART WATCH
Next item that I am 100% sure I do not want this year: a watch that I can use to read my emails on. Look, kids, I’m old enough to remember when big honking computer monitors were all the rage – we all wanted big screens. We could read them, watch movies on them, play Solitaire with HUGE cards if we felt like it. From that the Digital Powers That Be decided we should do all that stuff on our phones, and I still think it was a cruel prank master-minded by some California engineers who got a kick out of watching people walk into walls or into the bus lane whilst reading important e-mails (“I need your assistance to move funds from Nigeria to the USA”). Now, the next step is upon us – read your e-mails on your watch, or -worse – on the inside of your glasses. That same group of California engineers, older now, is laughing themselves silly until they fall right off of that weird office chair that has a big rubber ball in it (I don’t want one of those either, by the way). Bring back big screens, Santa!
A DASH CAM
Got one? Good for you. I’m happy to know that your daily commute is so enthralling that you can’t wait to get home and cast it to your huge flat screen TV (oh, there it is – I knew you had a big screen somewhere) and relive every red light and bad driver that caused you to spill your morning Joe and reach the conclusion that this; this dash cam video, is better than any Seinfeld rerun (ed. Note: It’s NOT!)
ILL-ADVISED STAR WARS MERCHANDISE
You may not have seen this one but I sure did. A ‘Star Wars’ razor for ‘men.’ It conjures up images of scenes in future Star Wars (all rights reserved, trademarked until the end of all time), where James Earl Jones’ voice booms in the background: “Luke, I am your barber.” Am I missing something here? The Star Wars franchise draws in 10 to 14 year olds – they’re not out buying razors yet, and the older Star Wars fans all have beards. I don’t get it. So don’t get me one.
So, what do I want for Christmas? The usual: our daughters home to visit for as long as they can stay or stand us (and that includes a lifetime pass if needed); some quiet time to read that chapter in “For Whom the Bell Tolls” where Nick describes his sleeping bag and how it feels to push your feet down into the corners while camped outdoors (and since I’m wishing here I’ll add on that I wish I could stay awake long enough to read the entire chapter), and that my Mom has a wonderful time spending Christmas with my brother and his family way down south. That should do it. OK and one can of Baxter Brewing’s “Per Diem” porter – it’s very good. Brewed right here in Lewiston which is pronounced Loystun in case you have to ask for directions upcountry.
Merry Christmas to you and yours, and please consider accepting my wish for you this season: peace, quiet, a good dog to scratch, and a good visit with family.
Over and out-