What You Give Is What You Net

Written in a stuffed Tim Horton's on December 21, 2012ish

Max out your MasterCard to pay off your VISA.
It's the Friday before Christmas.

For most people, resumes are stacks of potential you can file.
For me they tend to be future scraps of paper.
And so, here we are.
Some guy on Gottingen Street asked me specifically to help him get back on his feet.
He just got out of jail today.
I felt like saying, "Just in time for Christmas!"
But he seemed to have other things in mind.
Now, he said that one of those things was not drugs.
He didn't need my money for anything like that.
But I still think he wanted drugs.
And why not?
It's the holidays. Nothing wrong with a little crystal in your nog.
Nothin' wrong with it!
Having spent the past while on the till, I wrestle with the question of whether or not Christmas brings out he best or worst in people.
I suppose I still don't have a concrete answer.
However, a good guideline would be:

• Navigating a parking lot: Worst
• Finding a sweater in the desired size: Best 

Many have displayed kindness when they need not have bothered.
Others, their impetous.
You can only take both with a sighed, "'Tis the season."
As a tapestry, Christmas seems to be bringing out the people in people.
And I guess that's alright.
Christmas has mutated, really.
The concept of giving what we are able to give has been reindeer'd into giving all we've got (plus interest).
I myself have been worrying that my lover's gifts aren't 'good enough.'
Which is retarded.
There's no joy in giving if you look at it that way.
And of course they'll be good enough.
Who wouldn't want the Lego X-Wing and Tie Fighter?
Though, at it's core, the holidays as we celebrate them foster an idea of giving to make others happy, I still think that there's a unified concern they'll be happy enough.
Perhaps it has always been this way.
Perhaps it has been this way since the Cabbage Patch Dolls.
And though free of the moniker, maybe those 20-years ago Fridays were just as Black.
Yet, if each year is a benchmark - a memory to be outdone - then we'll never really have the Christmas Spirit.
Imagine what it must have been like in the days when you were happy to receive a fucking apple and a fine-toothed comb.
Were those folks jollier?
Probably.
Regardless, I think that they all received the bonus gift of perspective. 
Don't ask me what my point is.
Well, if I were to give a holiday message...
You know me. Keep it simple.
Get drunk on the tree water and fuck.
And keep your receipts.
You never know what might be going back.