Gazette column, among other things.

This week's submission to the Stillwater Gazette can be found below. Nothing earth-shattering, just more of my Andy Rooney-esque bitching and moaning without the annoying bushy white eyebrows. The man makes millions of dollars and he can't get a freaking wax job? Please, girlfriend.

This may be the last post for a few days. My wife and I are supposed to make a Thanksgiving pilgrimage (pilgrim, get it?) to Nebraska this weekend. I say "supposed to" because her back is giving her problems, and if it doesn't shape up there's no way we're adding severe back pain to the already innumerable reasons to loathe that trip. Just imagine seven hours of Iowa countryside, your speed limited to 60, writhing from pain, knowing that your destination is...Nebraska.

Shudder.

Anyway, whatever. It's not as if any of you will be at work the rest of the week. Enjoy your holiday, enjoy the turkey and pumpkin pie. Enjoy the Macy's parade with the freakish costumes, awkward banter, and painful lip-syncing. Enjoy the football (again, shudder) and watching your in-laws nod off and drool.


GAZETTE
Every year around November 1, I start doing everything within my power to get fired. I feign Tourette’s syndrome; arrive naked but for a strategically-placed tube sock ala the Red Hot Chili Peppers; even greet clients with “Yo momma’s so fat…” jokes, but all to no avail.

Looks like I’ll be stuck sending out the company holiday cards after all. So unenvied is this task that I could probably replace the jar of Hershey’s Miniatures on my desk with a basket of human heads and still retain my job.

The first problem with company card shopping is finding a religion-neutral image and greeting that will appease our Christian, Jewish and radical Muslim clients alike. Which reminds me, I need to send a card to Abdul at Mecca Office Products thanking him for the lovely Johnsonville Explosives Sampler. The almond bark grenades were a nice touch.

Honestly, I long for the days when a person could say “Merry Christmas” without a team of lawyers from the American Civil Liberties Union descending like crows on road kill. Shouting “fire” in a crowded theater is one thing, but mentioning Jesus? That’s beyond the pale.

The next problem is finding a holiday card manufacturer that can accommodate my procrastination. One would think holiday card manufacturers would brace for a last-minute rush around, oh, say, the holidays for instance, but alas they do not. One company told me matter-of-factly that production time was running five weeks, which would put the cards in my hands on December 23.

Yeah, like I’m going to trust the post office to deliver the cards in two days. May as well just affix the cards to blind, one-winged homing pigeons and cross my fingers.

(That was for the folks who complained about my recent post office column. Just kidding. Please don’t shoot!)

I finally decided upon a card manufacturer that benefits “exceptional” people, or whatever political correctness dictates the disabled be called this week. I won’t mention the company’s name; suffice it to say they’re courageous, and more importantly they’re fast. So fast, in fact, that I couldn’t help but wonder if loopholes in labor laws allow them to work these “exceptional” people night and day, 24/7, in dimly-lit, sweltering warehouses where they drop like flies on the production line, and are carted away and replaced by an inexhaustible supply of cheap, expendable labor.

Still, they look happy enough in the pictures. “Let’s go for it,” I told the salesperson over the phone, and ignored what sounded suspiciously like a whip cracking in the background.

The card we’re sending this year features a picture of a tree. Consider that for a moment; a glade of real trees was felled in order to create holiday cards bearing the likeness of a tree. The fact that I work for an environmental consulting firm only adds to the irony.

And besides the environmental impact, there’s considerable expense involved. Between the cards, my labor, and postage we’ll spend around a thousand dollars on this venture. Now, unless advertisements for homeless shelters have lied to me all these years, a thousand bucks would provide a lot of turkey dinners for down-on-their-luck guys who all look exactly like the scary Oak Ridge Boy. But God forbid we receive the Scarlet S (Scrooge) for not participating in the annual ritual. So, in a couple weeks, I’ll mindlessly stuff 400 identical cards into 400 identical envelopes, affix 400 identical holiday stamps and 400 identical address labels, and thus let 400 clients know how unique they are.

Here’s the dirty little secret of company holiday cards: No one but receptionists see the cards you send. Routing slips are not affixed to incoming cards. No “naughty or nice” Excel spreadsheets are generated tracking who sent a card and who didn’t. Hoards of festive employees do not flock to the mailroom each day demanding to see the latest round of holiday greetings. Rather, holiday cards are stamped with a “WGRA” stamp (Who Gives a Rat’s A**) where they’re displayed for a day or so at the reception desk next to the basket of human heads. On December 26 they are unceremoniously dumped in the recycling bin, looking like the remnants of a scrapbooking bender.

So I would like to be the first to declare a cease fire in the holiday card wars. Allow this column to serve as the Stillwater Gazette’s official holiday greeting to our advertisers. We won’t be sending cards this year: This is it. Enjoy. Happy Holidays. Merry Christmas. Happy Hanukkah. Have a blessed Kwanzaa. Death to the Infidels. Insert your faith or lack thereof here.

There, I just saved the Gazette a couple grand. Now perhaps they can afford to send me to Glamour Shots for an updated mug shot. Nothing would exude professional journalist like a pink, feather boa. Maybe I’ll have them pan out so you can see the tube sock.