It's the thought that counts (tm)

If I was more organizized, I would be perfectly on top of all my obligations real and assumed; and would, among other things, have sent my perfectly charming nonsectarian winter obligatory shopping holiday acknowledgment cards out oh I'd say about 29 days ago. But I'm not, so I didn't: some stuff beyond our control had to happen (or not), some inspiration had to germinate (uh huh), and truth to tell I'm rapidly beyond unimpressed at the necessity of celebrating Christmas before the day itself. Our forebears had the right idea about waiting and preparing in darkness, and then celebrating like there was no tomorrow for a couple of weeks, stretching the celebration well into the new year. I note with displeasure today's appearance of the first Valentine's Day sales of the false spring.

But I did finish our family charming nonsectarian winter obligatory shopping holiday acknowledgment cards. How I love writing the letter; ditto adding to the list of card recipients. Can't say as I care for addressing the envelopes, deleting with sorrow a name of a terminally disappeared friend, or displaying my deteriorating penmanship on the innards; but I know that the handwritten parts are important. I know that thanks to Bill Gates' minions I can have the machine do the mailmerge thing and print out the barcodes so that the epistles will get to their domestic destinations about 6 hours sooner, the better to languish in somebody else's central post office; but the ier I get, the more I treasure the handmade edges of the stuff of our lives.

This year I noticed something at work: nobody received a signed corporate end o year acknowledgment o bidniss relationship nonsectarian winter shopping holiday acknowledgment card. Imprinted, yes; signed, no. Nor did we receive blank corporate yada yada cards so as to sign ourselves, insert into hand-addressed envelopes and run through the postage meter to speed away to those folks who become friends through the bidniss relationships. They were all outsourced. Probly have been for years.

I figured it out after spending a couple of hours trying to figure out what a New York law firm sent me a pound block of chocolate with their best wishes. I thought for a while that because my peripatetic job assignment had me mostly in the General Counsel's office (where I held the largely ceremonial role of satan, warming the chair as it were) that I received my chocolate bribe in the normal course of legal buidniss. The truth was out there after Googling long enough: they bought a mailing list that I was on. A couple of three years ago.

Well all righty then. When next I change careers and become a roid-free professional athlete who needs to establish to the penny the value of my contribution to the franchise, I'll make sure those guys are in the database. They'll receive a suitably thoughtful memento of my appreciation, courtesy of some folks in New Delhi who are also thankful for my trade, and toast our mutual healths with smoking bishop. Hopefully not a bishop I know.
Tomorrow the year ends. Hopefully not with a bang, probly with a whimper.