It's almost N-Day. Coming soon. Next Monday, five days from now. Navidad.
Feliz Navidad, y'all. Merry Xmas, that's what I say.
I bought a bunch of gifts, all the same. Little boxes of chocolates, Guylian. Exotic.
Ecuador produces the world's best chocolate, but Belgian chocolate is exotic, so I bought that. Nothing says "thank you so much" like whatever it is that you can't normally get, or don't normally buy, or are unable to afford, or is foreign. Belgian chocolate is all of those.
I've never tasted it, but I've heard that it's good, so that's what I buy.
This chocolate is available in small boxes, four or six pieces per box, and costs $3.50. That's reasonable — I can afford to buy a bunch of those little boxes, and anyone on the receiving end knows that it's not a joke, not cheap, not a toss-off, not an empty gesture, but then again, it isn't wildly extravagant, and there isn't too much of it in one box, just a taste, enough to thrill without satiating.
So I bought around $140-worth this year, a bit less last year, about $250-ish in total for both 2016 and 2017.
The people where I eat lunch each got a little box, and the owner and his wife got a big box ($15). Same at the hotel where I live, though I haven't seen everyone yet. I still have lots of boxes to hand out, but I did get started.
Then I gave another big box to a legless beggar who works a corner about three blocks from here, so he and his family can enjoy all 16 pieces together. I'm glad I got to him before his annual Xmas vacation. He apparently gets by OK from begging but without "gifts" from random people like me, he's got nothing, so I dropped a big one on him.
The "bread lady" got a box. She probably earns minimum wage ($366 a month) at the panaderia, if that, so why not?
And two of the three dwarfs on nearby corners. The third one got away for now. I'll nail him later. I ran out and when I came back to drop a treat into his hands as well, he'd knocked off for lunch, so I strolled past a young female busker and tossed a dollar coin into her hat, followed by a little gift bag containing a box of chocolates. I'm probably the only one who's ever done anything like this. She exploded in smiles.
You know how it's said that it's more blessed to give than to receive? Eff that — it's flat out fun, a real kick in the head, keep the blessings. I don't want any.
I have two friends in the religion biz and they're both dicks. Two former friends, both very bright. Haven't seen much of them them since high school 50 years ago, but I've managed to update myself on their doings and whereabouts every few years. Yep. Religion Biz. Keep it, I don't want any. Nasty and dirty. Ugly.
I turned atheist about age 14, hung onto that for a few years, and eventually grew out of it. Now I'm simply plainly anti-religious. I don't want any of it. I don't care about it. Name your religion and I'm against it, whichever one it is. I'm even more hostile to the business of religion, but some of the ideas behind religion? Sure. One or two. Sign me up. What's right is right. I'm for that. Keep the hatred.
If I can do a little good, I'll do it, and refuse credit. Call me Mr Anonymous. That's fine. Screw the blessings. I don't want blessings, or awards, or recognition or a plaque, signed certificate, or my name in the news.
But fun, sure. I like random unexpected fun, especially when I can cause other people to experience it.
Giving stuff away is cool. I have more money than I need and since I'm going to die soon, if I don't spend it it will do no good at all. A few bucks here and there, scattered irresponsibly via walk-by charity, will make a few people feel good, and that makes me feel the same. Feeling good is good.
I wish I was this nice every day.