At the end-of-year board meeting for ScrooMoCo, Chairman Scrooge delivered the yearly financial projections. “We’ve slashed our workforce and are earning record profits this year!”

A great cheer arose from the board.

Suddenly, the room fell into darkness and the ghostly apparition of an older man in a suit, covered in chains, appeared above the long conference table.

“My God, that’s our dead founding partner, Jacob Marley!” Scrooge cried.

“ScrooMoCo Board members,” the spirit moaned. “You’re all greedy bastards who’ve caused great economic imbalance in the world and caused terrible needless pain to the masses. When you die, you will suffer the same fate as me if you don’t repent and stop your heinous actions now. These are the chains I forged in life and believe me, they freakin’ clash with my Gucci and make getting spa treatments a bitch.”

Several board members gasped.

“You will be visited by three spirits tonight. Heed their warning or you will suffer fashion humiliation for all eternity!”

Marley vanished and the lights returned.

Chairman Scrooge snorted. “Cratchit, call maintenance and get the electrical fixed PRONTO.”

Bob Cratchit, his secretary, winced. “ But we fired the maintenance staff and outsourced the work to India.”

“Then you do it!”

The overhead lights flickered. A great crash of thunder made all the board members jump. Standing on the conference table before them was Bing Crosby.

“Hello Board Members, I’m the spirit of Christmas Past and this number goes out to all you greedy robber barons,” he announced and then broke out singing I’m Dreaming of a Rich, White and Male Christmas.

The board members clapped. “Do Swinging on a Star!”

“No, I’m here to show you how it used to be, before all you mega-corporations took over the Earth. Behold, the past!” Bing pointed to the wall behind the table.

A large movie screen appeared showing black and white footage of American factory workers on assembly lines. A happy family of six eating at a backyard barbecue. A doctor making a house call. Kids walking into shining new schools. A young couple buying their first house. A stay-at-home mother working in her kitchen of gleaming appliances.

“My doctor still makes house calls,” a board member huffed.

“Yes, and my children attend schools just like that one. Nothing has changed.”

Bing shook his head. “That used to be the life for 99% of our population. Not the 1% it is today.”

“It’s their fault for being poor,” sneered a board member.

“I give up. And now, I’d like to introduce that man-about-town, that haunting spirit you’ll all come to know and love, the Ghost of Christmas Present. Take it away, President Barack Obama.”

Bing disappeared and in his place stood Obama.

The board members screamed in fear. “A Democrat!”

“But he’s not dead,” one argued.

“Hey folks, easy does it. I’m just trying to get re-elected and this seemed like a great way to get my message across to you since none of you pay attention to what I say anymore.” He gestured to the back wall. “Behold, the present!”

A succession of film clips depicted gigantic crowds of protesters in Madrid, London, New York and Oakland. A close-up on the signs revealed the messages: We are the 99%. Corporations Must Atone. Tax the 1%. Make Jobs Not War on Middle Class and Working Poor. The images shifted to a school kid reading a torn book and sitting at a broken desk next to a bucket catching a leak in a dingy classroom. Hungry children and mothers standing in long lines at soup kitchens. Thousands of unemployed crowding job fairs. A row of boarded-up houses with brown lawns and foreclosure signs. A homeless encampment under a freeway.

“Glad I’m not poor,” commented a board member.

“Hear, hear.”

“Me, too,” said Obama. “But if we don’t change things and right now, there isn’t going to be any rich people because the poor will rise up and kill us all. Didn’t you guys study history? Remember Marie Antoinette? While you guys sip Cristal with me, people are starving out there. People can’t afford health care, homes or educations. Over the past fifteen years, you bastards have taken ALL the money. You weren’t satisfied with an extra 50% or even 75% more money than your workers, you had to give yourselves 298% raises while they only got 4%. You blew it. And your iPods and Prozac and beer and NFL championships aren’t distracting them anymore. They’re onto our game.”

A board member yawned. “I’m sorry, did you just say something? I wasn’t listening.”

“Forget it. Here’s your final spirit visitor for the day, the Ghost of Christmas Future.”

Obama vanished and a sweet little Mexican girl in pigtails and a pink dress stood on the table.

All the members shrieked in terror. “An illegal immigrant!”

The little girl nodded. “You should be afraid. Shortly, I’m going to be the majority. And you’re totally screwing me over right now. Behold, the future!”

A post-Apocalyptic landscape appeared onscreen. Mansions burned in the background. In the foreground, well-dressed people ran from pitchfork-wielding crowds. The camera panned over a burnt and cracked sign: Town of Atherton.

The board members gasped, horror-struck.

“Act now or soon it will be too late,” the little girl said and vanished.

The screen disappeared and the lights came on.

Scrooge frowned. “Wow. That was frightening.” He rubbed his chin. “So should we pay our fair share of taxes, hire more people, stop outsourcing, help rebuild America’s infrastructure, improve our education system, overhaul our healthcare system and hold big banks accountable for their crimes?”

Silence fell over the room.

One board member held up his hand. “How about we give ourselves big raises and take the rest of the money now while we still can?”

Scrooge’s eyes lit up. “All those in favor?”

“Aye!” the board members replied in unison.

Bob Cratchit muttered under his breath, “Goosed again.”

©2011, Janet Periat

As many of you know, I have a love/hate relationship with the winter holidays. Leaning more toward hate. As I have finally figured out, they aren’t going away. In fact, they start in July now. Counting January sales, we only have five Christmas-free months of the year. Basically, for self-preservation, I had to confront my loathing of the holidays. I went into deep therapy and now have come out the other side abhorring them a little less. For holiday-haters like me, I thought I’d pass along some tips that came out of my primal holiday scream therapy and helped restore a bit of happiness to the season.

Tip One: Learn the power of the word “NO!” It is magical. If you hate the holidays like I did, it’s because you don’t feel you have the power to say no to a mountain of extra work. Well, you do. If you really don’t want to do something, don’t. Or find a way to do it that makes you feel the least like a victim. More importantly, figure out what you want to do and do that. Pick things you like to do. Delegate everything else.  Of course, you’d do the task better, but realize your control freak side is the whole reason you got into this mess in the first place. That and the fact that most women grew up thinking that we had to serve others to be loved. To receive attention and be “a good girl” we cooked and cleaned and helped Mom.

Warning: when you first say no, you will be blanket-bombed with guilt. Unless you take some Prozac first. The guilt attack will not be from your family, although it’s quite possible you’ll upset people because no one likes change. Least of all families with their holiday traditions. But mostly the guilt will come from you. Ignore this horrid wave of pain. Here’s the truth: they will all love you, anyway. Even if you didn’t make those fantastic cookies. Even if you don’t clean anything or cook, they will still love you. Think about the times you couldn’t come through because you were sick. Let go of that written-in-stone obligation crap. Unless you stop it, the trend never ends.

As you will find out, most of this guilt stuff is in your head. Your family isn’t really paying attention to what you do. Mostly they don’t care if you help or not. Besides, there’s always another martyr willing to carry the cross. Or sometimes a miracle happens and everyone does equal shares of the work. Once you set your boundaries, you’ll be amazed how well everything can turn around. I discovered I actually like entertaining. I just found a way to do it on my own terms. First, I start with mimosas then switch to eggnog with brandy…

Tip Two: Submit to the torment. There is no escape. Really. Fighting it only makes it worse. Mainly the holidays are the only times the family gets together. Don’t miss these horrid moments of torture. Experiencing mass trauma bonds people like no other glue. Besides, holidays are where future family jokes are created. You don’t want to miss events like when Uncle Al put on the Santa costume, tripped, fell into the fireplace and caught on fire, do you? Or when Aunt Gilda lost her teeth biting into Mom’s fruitcake?

Tip Three: Don’t overspend. You will feel less like an idiot in January if your credit card bill is not equal to the cost of a cruise to Tahiti. Because all you’ll think is, “Damn it, I could have gone to Tahiti for this.” Ask yourself why you are spending so much. Can you really afford it? Family members will love you whether you get them a nice gift or not. Unless they are under thirteen. With the slow economy, everyone understands cutting back. Make a budget and stick to it. You can’t buy love and the holidays will return in five months. Save some money for the early sales.

Tip Four: If you still have family and are speaking to them, count yourself lucky and take that as your best holiday gift. There are those this holiday season who don’t have a family to complain about. There are those who have lost loved ones this year that they actually liked. If you’re having a relatively peaceful holiday and no one ends up bloody or in jail, realize how blessed you are. They may be demented and annoying, but they’re your family. Love them.

For the record, as much as I have complained about the holidays, I’m extremely lucky. My family is both attractive and entertaining. Everyone is funny. Mostly all you hear is loud laughter. Especially after the third round of drinks. I am blessed to have both of my parents still here. And for those who followed my columns about my sister and her stroke two and a half years ago, I am thankful for every moment I have with her. And she will be spending Christmas weekend with me. While I bitch and moan and complain, these are some of my favorite pastimes. In no way should it reflect on my relatives. Well, most of them.

Because as Christmas looms near, I look forward to having my noisy, funny, boisterous, delightful family filling my house to its rafters, spilling wine on my rugs, loving each other, hugging each other, posing for funny photos—with kids and dogs running all over the place. My family members are loud. They are amazing. And I love them more than anything in the world.

So my final words are to my awesome family: Thanks for being in my life and thanks for loving me so thoroughly. You are always in my heart, your smiling faces in my mind, your laughter still rings in my ears, even though we may be miles apart. Love to all.

Oh, and don’t forget the beer.

©2010, Janet Periat

Yes, it’s that time again, folks, to buy gifts for our loved ones. Due to job loss and the current economy, this year could prove even more challenging to those on a strained budget. Instead of exchanging guilt, frustration and worry this season, try something different and take one of my suggestions below.

Number One: Wrap cheap gifts in bags and boxes from expensive stores. Go to the dollar store, pick up some cheap crap and stuff it in a Nordstrom’s box. No one will know the difference and you’ll score huge points. Hopefully your relatives will reciprocate with gifts that are actually expensive.

Number Two: Create personalized gifts. This adds a wonderful personal touch and enables you to give more unique and memorable gifts. Do a sculpture in marshmallows of your father’s stomach. Handwrite a poem on nice parchment about the time your brother accidentally set the house on fire. Do a photo collage of your family’s most embarrassing moments. Make sure to include pictures of your Dad passed out behind the tree after the Cinco De Mayo tequila-chugging contest and your sister’s unfortunate hairstyle that made her look like a dead poodle.

Number Three: Make gifts out of recyclables. Think decoupaging an old wine bottle to make a beautiful vase. Hint: Consume all the wine before you decorate the bottle. Amazing what creativity sprouts under the influence of alcohol.

Number Four: Bake gifts for loved ones. People love cookies, candies and cakes. But don’t go for the usual, try the unusual. How about recreating The Last Supper with gingerbread men? How about a cake in the shape of deceased pet? Chocolate in the shape of a relative’s most prominent body part? Fruitcakes are especially recommended. Not only are they a tasty dessert, they make great wheel chocks, paperweights, provide amazing self-defense against burglars and work well as an impromptu jack stand to change tires on cars.

Number Five: Give gift certificates for personal services you will perform. Think about your talents. How can you turn this into a gift of service? Are you a racecar driver? Give a gift certificate for a thrilling ride to the airport. Are you a police officer? How about a coupon for covering up a relative’s petty crime? How about a mover? Give a certificate redeemable for moving your sister’s cheating husband out of her house. Exceptions: masseuses, personal escorts and performance artists. Even open-minded families don’t want to go there.

Number Six: Regift. While many will advise against this, a gift becomes a belonging once it is received. Fruitcakes make perfect regifts as they have half-lives and will more than likely outlive their recipients. If you’re all out of fruitcakes, I’ll bet Dad would appreciate that hand-crocheted toilet paper cover in the shape of a pink, frilly doll that Aunt Gilda made for you. What about that Obama Chia Pet you got from the office for Mom? What about the Ab Roller your husband gave you as an anniversary gift? As long as the item is more or less unused, anything is fair game.

Number Seven: Give the gift of a family heirloom. What a perfect opportunity to get rid of a family albatross under the guise of being generous. What about your dead aunt’s collection of raccoon memorabilia? How about Grandpa’s gold teeth, Cousin Lydia’s antique fruitcake or better yet, the urn full of Uncle Al’s ashes? What a marvelous surprise for Jimmy to open up a box on Christmas morning and find his favorite uncle’s remains.

Number Eight: Give a group gift that everyone will enjoy. Hire a Chippendale’s dancer for the family Easter party. A Mafioso to beat up your sister’s deadbeat husband. A group date to In and Out Burger. Or take your family to a time-share presentation for vacation homes in Antarctica. Not only is it free entertainment, you’ll get a box lunch to boot.

Number Nine: Give marketing stuff from work. Pens, pencils, mugs, t-shirts, sweatshirts. If you don’t have enough marketing crap, think outside the box. Reams of paper, old computers, Post-It notes, manila envelopes. Maybe even your cubicle itself. Mom might want to divide the master bedroom and create some personal space away from Dad.

Number Ten: Change the gift tags on the presents under the tree. This is super simple. All you have to do is exchange tags and make the presents appear as if they came from you. This is the cheapest option of all.

Number Eleven: Steal stuff. Okay, so maybe this is bad karma, but who will know? Think a Rolex for Dad, a Ferrari for Mom, a few million for Sis. Hey, if you’re gonna be stealing something, why not aim high?

Number Twelve: Dumpster dive. It’s amazing what kind of stuff people throw away. So what if that sweater doesn’t have a sleeve? Put it in a Macy’s box and tell your sister it’s a new trend. And that case of chili may be a few months out of date, but it’s still good.

Number Thirteen: Buy my books. Especially How To Make Your Life Suck. Especially if you never want to hear from your relatives again.

Feel better about the upcoming holidays? Bursting with creative ideas on how to save money? Inspired to face the challenges of too much family time? Great. Glad I could help. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go create a sculpture of Rush Limbaugh out of old tires. What joy awaits my family on Christmas morning!

©2009, Janet Periat

I deal with Christmas the same way most people deal with death. I go through the same five stages. Firstly comes Denial. I can’t believe Christmas is here again. Then Anger. Stupid Christmas, why do the holidays have to exist? Then comes the Bargaining stage. Well, maybe I can skip parts of it and cheap out on gifts. Then Depression. It’s inevitable. There’s no way out. Bummer. Then the final stage, Acceptance. Well, I do like the reruns of Rudolph and The Grinch, maybe it won’t be so bad.

But it is. It’s always both good and bad. The holidays are always a double edged sword with me. The good? Seeing relatives I rarely see throughout the year, the fresh baked cookies, the endless Christmas parties. The bad? Seeing relatives I rarely see throughout the year, the fresh baked cookies and the endless Christmas parties.

It’s a vicious cycle. I love eating rich foods, I hate gaining weight. I love trimming the tree, I hate taking it down. I love buying gifts for people, I hate what it does to my budget. I love the holiday cheer, I hate the weather. I love people in my house, I hate cleaning. It’s always a mixed bag.

When I was a kid, I had no such mixed feelings, the holidays were spectacular. Period. Mom and Dad went through special effort to make sure our Christmases were glorious. Presents were plentiful, our morning routine had just the right amount of suspense and anticipation. We were not allowed into the living room in the morning until we had all eaten breakfast (read: choked down some toast in three seconds flat). Then we were made to line up according to age (me first—one of the only benefits I could see to being the youngest). Then once we were all lined up, Mom let us into the living room. And there the tree would be, lit up and surrounded by a cornucopia of incredible gifts. Some were left unwrapped, some wrapped, our living room always looked like a Christmas display in a store window. Absolutely magical.

Now I have to buy the gifts, wrap them, fix the food, and make everyone else in the family happy. Used to be I only had to focus on myself. So? Do I want a return to those days? No. I love thinking up special gifts for everyone, wrapping them and anticipating how much they will enjoy them when Christmas day arrives. I love baking cookies. I love helping out and making Christmas run smoothly. But it’s still a job. A big job. A big ol’ honkin’ job that I start dreading around late July when Hallmark first puts out their annoying Christmas ornaments.

So, every year around August, my husband and I start making elaborate escape plans. Hawaii? Yosemite? New Mexico? We soon realize that we don’t want to travel around the holidays, so we start thinking of other ways to relieve the stress. Mainly the monetary stress. I have a big family, one that has repeatedly rejected the name drawing method of reducing the gift giving burden. So, we start planning on only giving wine and candy. But then of course, my sister doesn’t have a significant other or kids, so she needs an extra gift. And so does my aunt, can’t compromise on hers. Or my mother’s gift. How many more Christmases will she be here? I want to get her something really nice. Oh, yeah and my niece just got married, she needs a new cappuccino maker. You see where this is going. We just can’t seem to find our way out.

Which brings me to the Depression/Acceptance part of my holiday cycle. I know what’s going to happen. It happens every year. But that doesn’t stop my husband and I from planning like mad to avoid the stress and the financial impact of the holiday season. Will we be able to achieve our goals this year?

I just hope Visa will have that special interest rate this January.

©2000, Janet Periat