Kitschy Christmas Catalogs

I come from a shopping family. Acquisition of useless but adorable objects was our regular group activity. Now I have scruples regarding consumerism. In fact, I have far more scruples than dollars. So this is the time of year I control my old addiction by reading the holiday catalogs that flock to my mailbox. I can't get enough of them. It's like a nicotine patch for my wallet. No matter how overpriced or ridiculous the stuff is, I always find at least one thing in every catalog that makes me say, "Hey, that is a good idea!" Case in point: who could not appreciate a red plastic figure named "Al?" You put Al in a pot of spaghetti and after exactly seven minutes, when the pasta is "Al Dente," he will play 30 seconds of an aria from Aida. "No more guessing or tasting a hot noodle!" according to Solutions. Great idea, right? But would you pay $30 plus shipping for Al? I'll stick with burning my tongue on noodles.

Sure, I read the high-class catalogs, like Wireless and Frontgate. But my real favorites are the corny, kitschy catalogs like Miles Kimball and Harriet Carter. (Am I the only one who cried when Lillian Vernon went out of business?) Last week I found a Carter classic. Page 70, top right: the "Merry Christmas from Heaven Ornament." It's a hanging tree ornament with a place for a photo of a departed loved one. It is inscribed with this poem:

I love you all dearly.

Now don't shed a tear.

I'm spending my Christmas

with Jesus this year.

A Christmas ornament for dead people! Brilliant. It started me thinking about other ornaments or holiday cards for "unique" situations. How about an ornament for an ex-husband? Something like this:

Merry Christmas to my EX.

I'm glad that you're not here.

'Cause I've spent the alimony

On my new boyfriend this year.

How about a Hannukah card for a Jewish jerk?

We broke the glass.

We sipped the wine.

I thought our life would be so fine.

But you screwed around with my best friend,

And so our marriage had to end.

You expected me to cry,

But not a tear escaped my eye.

A GREAT MIRACLE HAPPENED HERE:

I am doing fine without you, dear!

Finally, what about a holiday card for that freeloading relative who barges in every year?

Every holiday you come knocking.

You never bring nuttin',

Not even a stocking.

You eat all the dip,

Drop your towels on the floor,

And your slutty wife is such a bore.

It's like sticking our heads inside a noose.

We've had enough of this abuse.

So this year the keys are under the mat.

We got a kennel to board the cat.

Blow up the Aero bed by mouth.

We booked a cruise and headed south!

I invite you; implore you -- please join in and send me your alternative holiday wishes for those you care about -- in "different" ways. Maybe next year we could start our own catalog. Lillian Vernon, your bankruptcy should not be in vain!