Barnes Burning

A December To Forget

Polish off your credit cards. Prepare for a relentless, high-decibel holiday musical assault anytime you step into a place of retail. Get ready to elbow an elderly lady aside as you lunge like a wild mustang for the last digital camera on sale at Best Buy. The holidays are upon us!

Corporate America is responsible for the brouhaha that arrives each December. They expertly slash prices on popular items and plaster their sales message across all forms of media. And while they used to stick to smaller-ticket gifts, the go-go economy in the second half of this decade led them to push bigger, bulkier, more expensive fare. Like luxury automobiles.

Lexus has led the pack in this category. For several years, they’ve run a recurring series of ads that you probably recognize by now.

Here’s an example: a handsome man with a silver shock of hair prances up behind his wife. Turning, she playfully flips her own silver mane (apparently, when you’re in the top tax bracket the IRS sends you a case of silver hair dye along with your 1040 form). The giggling husband covers her eyes and leads his beloved through the sprawling lower floors of their mansion. They arrive outside. Standing in the driveway, he removes his hands to reveal a gleaming Lexus gift-wrapped with a giant red bow. And of course the wife showers her husband with excited hugs and kisses.

I have a feeling these ads resonate especially well here in Southern California where cars are essentially trophies on wheels. Because of the exceptional year round weather, motorists don’t have to worry about road salt corroding away their body paint, or a snowplow skidding into them during rush hour. So getting a car for Christmas or Hanukkah is actually plausible, whereas doing so in New Hampshire, where I’m originally from, is akin to entering a destructive wintertime demolition derby.

None of this is to mention the absurd, shortsighted, and financially ridiculous proposition of purchasing a $45,000 item without consulting your one and only life-partner. In the middle of Great Depression 2.0. There’s that also.

Considering that only a moronic snob who knows nothing about the car buying process would buy a Lexus for somebody else without their consultation (no, I don’t care how wealthy you are, buying a car is never a “treat”— they begin depreciating and breaking down the moment you own them, you are handing your loved one a liability that will tie them down for many years to come) and considering that Lexus calls their holiday sales event “A December to Remember,” I thought it might be fun to play a little game. We’ll think about some scenarios that could arise as a result of “giving” a Lexus for the holidays. These could happen in any family. Let’s call it “Remember that Time You Bought a Freaking Lexus Without Asking Me!?”

Enjoy!

Remember that Time You Bought a Freaking Lexus Without Asking Me!? Two days later I got carjacked after breaking down on a freeway off-ramp. Right before I blacked out from shock, I saw the thug who stole my car was wearing the hood ornament around his neck. Thanks again!

Remember that Time You Bought a Freaking Lexus Without Asking Me!? That was back when we were married. We had massive credit card debt, two kids in private school, and you were under investigation for misappropriating funds at work. Our marriage was in shambles, but you wanted to make things better. So, one night after a few pops with your buddies, you headed to a Lexus dealership. I could not believe my eyes when I saw it sitting in the driveway, so I slapped you across the face. See you in family court!

Remember that Time You Bought a Freaking Lexus Without Asking Me!? I was only 19 Dad. I know you’d been spoiling me for a long time, but please. Were you really surprised when I crashed into the side of my dorm?

Remember that Time You Bought a Freaking Lexus Without Asking Me!? Honey, I doused myself in oil and lit myself on fire in front of the White House. I was shouting “Down with Corporate Oil Pigs”. I’m not exactly an automobile enthusiast.

Remember that Time You Bought a Freaking Lexus Without Asking Me!? It was really creative of you to copy a TV commercial. It was special and romantic. You even tied the cheesy red bow on top of the car, you dope. Now I can never show my face to the neighbors again.

When I Was A Boy, Men Didn't Play Dress Up On Halloween

I hate to dampen everyone's spirits on this spooky morn, but when I was a boy, Halloween was for the youngins. For instance, if my Dad exhaustively spent three weeks tweaking a Larry Bird costume to get it just right (down to the blond mullet and redneck wispy mustache) my Mom would have served him up her own little Halloween surprise: a firm slap in the face. Or maybe divorce papers. But today, grown men all over the country are trudging off to work in G.I. Joe regalia, pirate garb, Peyton Manning uniforms, and an incarnation or two of Satan himself. There's nothing like closing a big business deal with a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle sitting across the conference room table. Let's not even get into the various 2008 election costumes we're sure to see from the over-30 set. Joe The Plumber anyone? And after work, it's almost guaranteed that you're heading off to a Halloween party, where more than likely, you'll be dressed up as some semi-ironic salute to pop culture and your own devilish wit (I think we can envision a situation where somebody heads to the office as Sarah Palin, and ends up rocking the look all the way through November 4th...all it takes is a little Halloween grog). I'm not excluding myself from this criticism, because I'll spend part of the weekend shuffling around in some half-assed outfit that makes me feel like an awkward 12 year-old again. But none of this is my problem, it's society's. If you think about it, it might be time to grow up.