Shop all ye faithful
By Sheryl-Lee Kerr
So you haven't finished your Christmas shopping yet? Every time
people flinch when they see plastic mistletoe, it's a dead giveaway: either
they have accelerated stress levels due to poor festive-season time
management, or exceptionally good taste.
I understand - I'm something of a last-minute shopper.
The way I deal with this is by taking the medical precaution of never
looking at a calendar without first changing it to October on the
theory that too much realism will give me a rash.
Others are not so lucky. I see them screaming about, wild-eyed,
frustrated, frothing (and that's just while trying to find a carpark), looking for all the world as though Christmas is merely days away.
“Tosh,” I want to call to them. “Stop sweating like that you're
giving me visions of Christopher Skase with a ticket to Australia
under his nose. Besides, it's only October.”
Alas, poor fools, they persist buying anything in sight. This is
strange but true. You could gussy up dog food with bows and tissue
paper, mark it “Christmas special ALREADY GIFTWRAPPED!” and it'd
cause riots in aisle three.
And this absurd gift they could rationalise with all the aplomb of a
United States president.
Western manufacturers understand the power of desperation and, in
true capitalistic tradition, ensure that no human failing should go
unexploited in a season of caring and sharing.
And so it is in the US, especially this year. They are outdoing each
other with daft ideas that set back mankind's intellectual
development by 50 years and yet which still see someone named Betty-Jo order two dozen.
In case you think I am exaggerating, here's a sample from
this year's real US contenders:
A combination lollipop holder and “bone conduction” machine that
plays sound inside your head when you bite it.
The world's first clock radio with a carbon monoxide sensor built
in. The device sniffs the air every 150 seconds and puts out a special
alarm if there's a change in air quality.
Macho man Randy Savage, a plush wrestler doll that says “Hey,
you're bashin’ in my gut!” when hit or twisted.
Gastro Intestinal Igor and Bad Gas Baby Human. Yes, well. Just hold
your nose.
Dr Vic's electron chair that includes a figure that can be zapped in
an electric chair.
Gywnn, an exotic dancer doll for over-eights that has a bra that
snaps off and anatomically correct breasts.
Frankly, I think Gastro Intestinal Igor will make Betty-Jo very
happy this year. And before you ask (and now I know you're desperate),
sadly, dear shoppers, you can't get these fine products here, so
you'll just have to keep looking.
Me? I'll shop a little later. I'm just glad it's still only October. It is, right?
© Sheryl-Lee Kerr & The Advertiser, 22 DEC 1998