Ready for Christmas? Me too

For years, I seethed every time I heard anyone say, with a mouth full of turkey and dressing, "I've finished all my Christmas shopping."

Why I needed to know that isn't exactly clear. But some smug people who are extremely organized, never procrastinate and love shopping for sweaters in July obviously enjoy being the first gift giver to use up all the wrapping paper they bought from kids in the neighborhood who work nights keeping the schools afloat financially.

For a long time, hearing that someone had marked every name off his shopping list by Turkey Day was a good way to spoil the pumpkin pie. And a great excuse for those extra dollops of Cool Whip.

When our sons were small, Christmas shopping was as adventurous as sailing through the Straits of Magellan in a wash tub. Thanks to the miracle of modern marketing, our sons always knew precisely what they wanted for Christmas. And most of it wasn't available in the stores where we shopped.

So my wife and I would go on long quests for those hard-to-find items.

Like Spider-Man.

Our younger son was crazy about Spider-Man. Were there lots and lots and lots of Spider-Man goodies that could be purchased and put in boxes and wrapped with bright red and blue Spider-Man paper? No, because Hollywood hadn't yet invented the blockbuster "Spider-Man" and "Spider-Man 2." We were on our own, and it ain't fun.

Once, we went to a comic-book store in St. Joseph, Mo., and saw a life-size cardboard cutout of Spider-Man. We asked the store's owner if we could buy the cutout for our son. He said he couldn't sell it because it was used to promote sales of Spider-Man comic books. Who would buy his comic books if we bought the sales pitch?

I calmly suggested he look into our desperate eyes and then tell us he couldn't be bothered with cold cash in exchange for a large piece of cardboard shaped like a man wearing a red and blue SCUBA suit.

That was then.

Nowadays, Spider-Man is everywhere.

When he was young, our older son had a thing for sharks and whales. We tried to find him stuffed animal in those shapes. Was that easy? It would have been easier to go to Florida, hire a fishing boat and harpoon a whale of our very own.

Nowadays, aquatic fauna comes in cuddly versions at just about any store that sells stuffed animals.

Nowadays, if someone pulls out a cheery "I'm done with my shopping and have all my presents wrapped," I smile knowingly and say, "Me too."

Most people who shop early apparently don't like a lot of company. Go figure.

It's easy to be the first on your block to be cured of the fever known as shopping frenzy when you don't buy anything for anyone unless they tell you what it is, what color it should be, what size it should be, how much it costs and which store has it in stock.

In other words, if you want something, let us know. It's yours.

My problem is that I don't want stuff -- haven't for quite a few years. I'm not the person Madison Avenue has in mind when the ad says a gift is perfect for "the man who has everything." I don't have everything, of course. I wouldn't know where to put it.

But I have everything I want or need.

Isn't that enough?

R. Joe Sullivan is the editor of the Southeast Missourian.