The Rage Diaries

Pick-a-fight Wednesday ... the giving tree

One of my favorite holiday-related errands is to buy toys. Phil and I always pick up a few things for Toys for Tots, and I'll hit the Family Giving Tree for a donation or two as well. I love reading things like:

Hi, my name is Jason and I am 9 years old! I love to eat spaghetti and play football. My favorite animal is a monkey. My favorite part of the holiday is spending time with family!

That's his artwork at left, by the way. He asked for a football and a basketball.

One of the reasons I like the Family Giving Tree is because the requests remind me how humble many of our wants or needs are. This is not necessarily the case with all giving trees -- occasionally, I read something about someone who's taken aback at the brand-name and big-ticket requests some of the needy make.

I can understand thinking, "I can't afford [Big Ticket Item] for myself -- why would I buy it for someone else?" But I wonder if it's just a slippery slope down to the sentiment "The needy should be grateful for whatever they get -- it's better than nothing at all." I can't get behind that. I may not always remember that gratitude ought never be expected, but I can not back the idea that it should be compulsory in any charitable transaction.

So I do not have it in me to begrudge anyone their desire for nice things, for things that make them feel as though they belong in the ranks of "normal" Americans kids and families. And to sidestep the whole complicated issue of generosity and reward, I now avoid non-virtual giving trees.

But let me throw open the floor to you ... Giving trees: Do you participate? What -- if any -- limits do you place on any participation? And do you think there should be limits on what people ask for?

Pick-a-fight Friday ... Are you what you drive?

Have y'all seen this totally vomitous Lexus "December to Remember" ad yet? The ad that's basically like, "Hey -- remember how the reason of the season is to make other people seethe with jealousy over your wretched material excess? Now go buy a Lexus and relive those good times!"

Compare and contrast that with Subaru, which is blanketing the primetime airwaves with ads touting its Share the Love Event: if you buy a Subaru before January 2, 2009, the company will make a donation to one of five charities: the ASPCA, the Boys and Girls Club of America, Habitat for Humanity, Meals on Wheels or National Wildlife Foundation. See? You can purchase a new car and share the love with your fellow man!

It's a genius campaign, because it makes the would-be buyer feel good about their purchase. So there's a recession on? You're giving to the needy even while you drive away in a new car!

Both Lexus and Subaru have rolled out commercials that are designed to appeal to very precise consumer segments. And this makes me wonder: do we really catch the pitches from these companies? When you choose the cars you drive, do you take the brands' public profiles into account? Do you feel some auto brands better reflect your values?

Whale-on-it Wednesday ... Hand-crafted gifts. Yes or no?

Owing to the confluence of two factors -- a preference for Kobo candles and a year of thinking consciously about reducing, reusing and recycling -- I have something like 18 glass containers with lids stashed in shoeboxes upstairs. I have big plans for 12 of them -- stick some LED tea lights in them, pop them in paper bags and line my walk with non-flammable luminaria this holiday season. And I recently brushed another four glass candleholders with glue, covered them in pink or purple glitter, and figured they'd do for a deconstructed Advent wreath. (Or for decorating a sixth-grade Twilight fan's room. Either or.)

I am a bit of a perfectionist, and when I combine that with my decidedly amateur-level skills at handicrafts ... look, I know I'm asking for trouble. You will all understand when I say that I don't necessarily love the 1.0 version of my Advent candleholders. I wouldn't feel comfortable giving them as gifts.

However, I do dig a great handmade gift. I'm not likely to receive one -- I have weird tastes, and my friends who are crafty are also not masochists, so there you go -- but I do admire a beautifully-knitted scarf or hat or a gorgeous print. One of my favorite gifts is a framed photo my friend Elliott developed for me in grad school.

And therein lies the rub with handmade gifts. Taste is such an intensely personal thing. Making something for someone is also intensely personal -- the thought and effort involved represents quite an investment on the part of the giver.

In the Toecovers entry, ae told this story:

[L]ast year, I went out of my way to make a personal and gorgeous gift for my Mother-in-law. She is always hard to shop for -- she has everything. So I was really pleased to come up with something special and unique for her. In my eyes, it fell flat. I might as well have gotten her slippers.

Which perfectly demonstrates the hazard of handmade gifts from one end: when you knock yourself out for someone and they can't be arsed to care. On the flip side of that, what do you do when you get something that looks like it belongs in Craftastrophe?

So I'm throwing out this question to the commenters at large: What's your stance on giving or receiving hand-made gifts?

Pick-a-fight Friday ... Mix-in-a-jar. Yes or no?

In this month's Fiscal Fitness theme post, Kip wrote something that had me nodding along vigorously in assent:

If you are just batching up something for the sake of giving out a "homemade" gift, please don't bother. I'm sorry if this offends anyone, but I really hate those dang "gifts in a jar" where hotcocoa mix, milk powder and marshmallows, or Jiffy cornbread mix, or whatever is layered into a mason jar. That doesn't say "Christmasariffic! How innovative and delightful!" to me; that says "Someone needed to check the box on thirty acquaintances so she went to Costco and bought ten pounds of Swiss Miss."

Have any of you ever read Betty MacDonald's The Plague and I, wherein she expounds on "toecovers," or those gifty items that seem to exist for no other reason than to be inflicted upon someone else in a spirit of generosity (or obligation)?

My definition of toecover includes the mix-in-a-jar gift. (One year, I got seven-bean soup. Anyone who knows me is snickering, but I assure you, I was gracious.) Or those bottles of mystery oil in which some radioactive red peppers are suspended -- those are toecovers.

Or bath salts. As a militant non-bath person (oh, God, the idea of poaching myself in my own scum ... shudder), I include schmancy bath salts or those weird jelly-textured marbles of bath oil as toecovers.

But I get that for some people, receiving some beans in a jar channels the very spirit of Christmas. Or for some people, lovingly ladling pancake mix into jars, then hot-gluing ribbons to the lid reminds them of what really matters for the holidays.

So I'm throwing it open to you, the people. What are your toecovers? And what seemingly toecover-like gifts do you secretly love to receive?

Fiscal fitness -- November's theme ... and a pick-a-fight Wednesday

... is linked to this WSJ story, "Glum Tidings: Santa Gets Sacked as Cities, Companies Look to Save" (Nov 10, 08) and this Business Week Story, "Yes, Virginia, There Is a Recession" (Nov 6, 08).

Yup -- we're talking holidays. The questions for the month:

Are there any external factors affecting your holiday spending?

My answers and more after the jump.

The bravery of kindness

"The Exchange: Kindness for Rudeness" (NYT, Dec 23, 07) is sticking around in my head; the lump in my throat that arose for one of the people in the article won't go away either. To wit: the author is a skinny, 21-year-old snot who, due to poor planning and plain entitlement issues, systematically blows her food budget and eats the food of Karen, her roommate whom she holds in contempt.

The author treats Karen with complete bitchery, despite Karen's repeated displays of a brave kind of compassion. During a miserable Christmas in London:

I took a bunk as far as possible from Karen’s. I think she assumed we’d hang out together, but my roommate from college in the United States flew over, and we ran around going to art films and looking for cool record stores.

If Karen was disappointed, she didn’t let it slow her down. I remember her in her puffy ski jacket and hand-knit wool hat and mittens, lumbering back from sightseeing. She’d seen the Rosetta stone! She’d seen Lewis Carroll’s original manuscript for "Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland!" Her cheerful self-sufficiency drove me crazy.

Then the author catches the flu. And -- get this -- Karen tends to her, generously and without question. Afterward, the author writes:

Back in Ireland, she never said another word about me scarfing her leftovers, while I was maybe less snooty but still aloof.

And the piece ends not long after, with the author admitting that years later, she finally realized how kind Karen had been. And -- pow! -- I was undone. Not for the author's mingy epiphany, but for Karen. It is soft and easy to be kind to people who are nice to you in your hometown. This college girl was thousands of miles from home,  and every day, she made the decision to be kind to undeserving snots in a place that wasn't home. Can you imagine the courage that must have taken, to extend consideration in the face of repeated rejection?

I hope to God that now Karen's got a life that runs over with generosity and kindness. That kind of quiet heroism deserves rewards.

Would you like to destroy my sweater?

Pull this string and I'll walk away ...

Now that I've planted that song in your head (you're welcome!), let's talk holiday sweaters.

I will admit to love-love-loving holiday sweaters in the 1980s and even in the very early 1990s. What was more festive than a red sweater with snowflakes knit into it, I ask you? And even now, I keep a red cashmere tee around just so I can look festive on December 25.

So I'm sort of amused by the irony-laced regard with which people are now tackling these sweaters -- witness Buzzfeed's roundup of ugly holiday sweater parties. And I am sort of in awe over the thought that goes into generating holiday sweaters:

Most of the sweaters at Coldwater Creek do not speak to a specific holiday, like Christmas, but are more generically seasonal. This way, the designs are more inclusive of different faiths (apart from a few that show trees decorated with tinsel, described online as “festive”).

And they can be worn well beyond the season’s usual expiration date of Dec. 25.

They should be both denim-friendly and spiffy enough to be worn over black velvet pants for a holiday party. They should be conscious of volatile weather patterns and overheated rooms, which is why there are so many more cardigan styles than crew necks.

-- "Behind that Merry Sweater, Some Holly, Jolly R&D," NYT, Dec 20, 07

It seems a lot more sound than the research logic employed at the Quacker Factor, if this clip is anything to go by. (That's their fiber optic-lighted holiday sweater illustrating this post, by the way.)

Where do you stand on the festive-sweater issue? Is this the kind of thing where old people and little children get a pass? Is it appropriate in some regions but unthinkable in others? (I like to speculate on whether or not Hawaiian people debate the merits of Santa-themed shirts.) Or will snotty tastemakers pry your snowflake sweater out of your cold dead hands?

Such a deal!

You all have read alllll about how I love me some spendy soy Kobo candles. And now you can experience the wonder for yourself at a fraction of the usual cost: Garnet Hill has three different scents in stock and they're on sale for $12 apiece. I can personally vouch for the fresh currant and fig scents, but I'm sure the chocolate-orange one is great too.

Go, go, go, stock up now. The candles come in gorgeous paper cannisters that can double as wrapping, and they make great hostess gifts.

Reduce, Reuse, Recycle: Who's in for December?

It's the last month of this year's challenge. Y'all have slogged long and hard, schlepped totes and broke down cardboard boxes, re-used foil and reduced paper-towel use. You can hang in for another four weeks!

In keeping with the season, I'll be focusing my efforts around the holidays: I'm going to reduce the amount of new packaging I use when shipping gifts all over the place; I'm going to reuse gift boxes and bags I already have on hand; I'm going to recycle the holiday plants I've got by planting them in the yard (or a non-peppermint-striped pot) when the season's done.

So tell me how you plan to reduce/reuse/recycle around the holidays? What resource-friendly measures will you take? Which holiday traditions are you feeling a little conflicted and guilty over? Are you involving friends and family in your reduce/reuse/recycle efforts?

Why I love economists

[L]et's do something to reform Halloween. The first step would be for Halloween donors to give kids money instead of candy. Kids could then go to the supermarket the next day and binge on the candies they really like. That solution would get an A-plus in economics.

I am not optimistic that Americans would be so enlightened. So other solutions should be sought. Many schools prohibit children from taking Halloween candy onto the premises. That is exactly the wrong policy. Schools should encourage all children to bring their entire haul to school, and allow them a lengthy period to trade candies among themselves. That way, the Take 5s and the 100 Grand bars will find their way to individuals who cherish them.

Of course, nobody will take the Charleston Chews, so we should also consider a federal block grant to local school districts to support environmentally friendly disposal of the candy.

-- "Halloween Is an Economist's Biggest Nightmare," American Enterprise Institute, Oct 30, 07