Mr. Owner of the Christmas Stuff Company
Ye Olde Christmas Company
Dear Mr. Owner:
On Thursday , I decided to run into my neighborhood thrift store. My great aunt was having a birthday party for her Chihuahua and I was given the task to find a small director’s chair for Senor’ Nacho. I’m the “go-to” person in my family when they need special things for the pint-size pup. In the past year, I have had to find a Senor’ Nacho size wristwatch, monocle, and easel. And if you think I found these in the childrens’ section…you would be dead wrong.
Anyway, as I was walking through the store and humming the popular “Ventura Highway” (timeless!), I passed several rolling bins of Christmas items. I was in a hurry to find Senor’ Nacho’s chair, but seriously, who in their right mind can pass up mountains of holiday things? I know I can’t! (It would be hard for me to concentrate if I worked for your company….don’t wait for my resume! LOL! LOL!)
So there I was, digging through the snowman statues, vinyl placemats, and hand decorated wreaths, when I looked up and saw only what can be described as “terrifyingly scary and also big”. Through the metal swinging doors, came all of the employees out of the backroom with MORE bins of Christmas things. It looked like the scene from “Snow White” where the dwarfs take the coal ( or is it gold?) from the mountain. Except these were average height workers. And they weren’t whistling…most were just walking the stuff out quietly…but indeed briskly. They did have vests on…like the dwarfs did in that movie though.
I just stood there with my mouth open for what had to be ten minutes…maybe a little more. I had no words. I was surrounded by what could only be described as ” large bins of Christmas things”. I am not exaggerating.
Why had people donated all of these items? What condemning act had this snowflake shaped plate done? Had the “Santa Stuck in the Chimney” piece brought more sorrow than joy? Did the strand of plastic holly suffer the last wrath of a drunk uncle from Connecticut who thought it better to wear (with nothing else) than to hang on a banister..and then only when someone promised to put out more eggnog and that we would open all the presents two nights before Christmas would they put something on ? These questions burned through me as I stood there on the linoleum.
And then it hit me. People weren’t donating this because they no longer had a use for it….or needed it….or could use it. No. People were donating because they were being forced to give it away. Forced by the intoxicating power of “new holiday stuff”.
So “Mr. Owner of the Christmas Stuff Making Machines”….I have a challenge for you. Take a year off from making stuff. Yeah…I said it. Go to the top of your factory workroom…on that one ledge thing with the metal fence barrier…and shout down to your workers “STOP THE MACHINES! WE HAVE ENOUGH! WE…HAVE…ENOUGH!!!”. And stand back and listen to the applause. Shout down “THE FACTORY IS CLOSED AND YOU ALL ARE ON PAID LEAVE!”. Now listen for the shouts of joy! And then you can shout “THE SNACK MACHINES ARE OPEN AND SNACKS ARE FREE!”. People will be hungry from so much happiness and will appreciate some crackers or candy.
Of course, this is an outline. You may not have a snack machine, maybe just a soda machine. But drinks would be appreciated just as much as snacks.
I hope I have inspired you to take action. Thank you for your time!
P.S. In case you were wondering, I DID find Senor’ Nacho his director’s chair! It was not in the children’s section.