Sliding and screaming into the holiday season...

It is upon us. That hectic, emotional roller coaster we call "the holiday season".

Every year I resolve to simplify, slow down and try to enjoy a Zen-like quiet time of fellowship and reflection. Every year, I get caught up in the frantic rush to buy gifts, attend parties and entertain family and friends; all while trying to keep up with my usual responsibilities at work and at home. I don't even have children and it is still all so exhausting. I don't know how those of you that do have offspring manage to balance everything without losing your sanity.

This year things feel different to me and I would suspect, to many Americans. With a shaky economy and 10% unemployment, "simplification" has become a necessity, not a choice, for most of us. It just doesn't feel right to whoop it up too much when we all know people are really struggling this year.

The Davis Christmas is typically a quiet affair. For the last couple of years I have made small donations to various charities on behalf of my parents and brothers. We give a couple of simple gifts among the adults and then I always buy gifts for my brother's children. I also buy one nice gift for my mother, which she always tells me she will leave me when she dies. I in turn reassure her that my gift-buying has no ulterior motive and that I am throwing all the scarves, Waterford knick knacks and Limoges in with her if she precedes me. (That's the kind of stuff that passes for humor in my family.)

In contrast, the Valalik Christmas exchanges have always been a loud flurry of tearing paper and glee. However, as all the children become young adults and are beginning to start their own families, we thought it was time for a change. Last year my brother-in-law, Andy and his awesome wife, Joyce, came up with an alternate gift exchange game that would save everyone money and simplify the buying process.

It seemed like a good idea at the time.

The plan was to gather at Joe and Joan's new home for Christmas Eve, each of us tasked with buying a generic gift under $50 that would be suitable for a large number of the participants. I told Bill that I would buy one present and he could buy the other. The week of Christmas I gently reminded him repeatedly that he needed to buy something for the event. (Those of you who know us can appreciate how supremely subtle I was in "reminding" Bill about his responsibility.)

Finding a universally attractive gift proved to be akin to Mission Impossible. Can you think of an item that costs exactly $50 that would appeal to a group of nine people of both sexes with ages ranging between 19 and 81 years? Neither could I. In desperation, I finally landed on a big faux silver punch bowl/ice bucket thingy that you can stash beverages in for parties. It was attractive (I thought) and useful. I got my treat wrapped and ready for Christmas Eve. When Bill came home from work at 3:30 that afternoon, I asked him what he had purchased. He confessed that he had been unable to think of anything appropriate. The party started at 5:30PM and was located an hour away from our house. We jumped in the car and raced up to TJ Maxx in full blown panic mode. After running around the store like idiots, we finally found a Calphalon roasting pan. Sold for $49.99! In a frenzy, I got it wrapped and we showered, dressed and drove to S.C.

Joe and Joan's house was beautifully decorated and suitably festive. When it was time for the exchange, we all drew numbers and the person with the number "one" got to choose the first gift. The person with the number "two" had the option of taking the gift from the person with the first gift or picking something new from under the tree, and so on. In theory this results in hilarity and merriment for all. Mallory, our lovely niece who is in her early 20's, chose the present she herself had purchased; a cozy Sherpa blanket from J.C. Penney. After she unwrapped it, she draped it over her shoulders and her face assumed a blissed-out expression, not unlike that of my cat when he encounters catnip. For the rest of the evening she hissed (again, not unlike my cat) at anyone who dared cast eyes upon her treasured blankie. Needless to say, her grandfather, who had drawn the number "two" did not have the nerve to attempt prying it away from her when it was his turn to choose.

Things went rapidly downhill from there, despite our best attempts at being jolly.
The gifts ended up like this: Grandpa Joe got a grey V-neck men's XL sweater (he was the only guy small enough to wear it); Joan, ended up with a man's Brookstone grooming set (presumably she plans to keep Joe's nose and ears hair-free, which we applaud); Andy got a windchime(which he stole from Bill in exchange for the breathalyzer that Andy had purchased and badly wanted to see his big brother unwrap); Jonathan ended up with the Calphalon roasting pan (every college boy's fantasy gift); Kathryn got a bottle of Tresor perfume (which she doesn't wear) after I stole her iPod so that I could trade it to Joyce in exchange for my own ice bucket (yes, I got into the spirit of things and degenerated into a complete ass). The nice thing is I ended up with two gifts when Kathryn threw the perfume at me on her way out the door. Good times!

Surprisingly, it is not our plan to make the gift exchange an annual tradition.

The plan this year is to, you guessed it, simplify. We're sharing small gifts from the heart, good food and lots of love and laughter. As my nephew Jonathan wisely told his mother, "It isn't about the gifts anyway, Mom. It's about being together." I couldn't (and didn't) say it better myself.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to you all. Let's make this the year we count our blessings, not our dollars, to calculate how rich we really are.