2025 Last-Minute Online Holiday Gift Guide!

Introduction

OMG, it’s that time of year again when you get terrible holiday music in malls and restaurants, including one of my least favorites, “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year.” The tune isn’t so bad, but the lyrics are totally misleading. This is actually the worst time of year: it’s cold, it’s dark, and—worst of all—everyone will be expecting gifts soon.

Well, I can help you with that last bit: it’s not too late to order a bunch of stuff online. All the items reviewed in this post can still be shipped directly to your loved one by Christmas, because let’s face it, if you find yourself here it’s because you’ve let it go too long and now you’re desperate. At least you’ll know what to buy, as I’ve narrowed it down to eleven options based on the tastes, proclivities, vices, and/or weaknesses of everyone on your list.

I would like to point out that I have not received any free products or other remuneration for showcasing these products. Also, I haven’t seen, tried, tasted, or tested them. Caveat emptor! (Translation: empty calories, may cause cavities.)

Adult pacifier - $120

Let’s face it, we’re living in tough times. Unemployment is up, AI threatens to steal our jobs, political divisions are starker than ever, and our phones have us addicted to doomscrolling. Who wouldn’t want to regress into some of the most primitive self-soothing behaviors available? It’s not always feasible to curl up in the fetal position, but pacifiers are as handy as ever. The only trouble is, you’d look like a freak. Well, won’t your stressed-out and anxious loved one be thrilled you found this clever workaround, the so-called “LED Lip Therapy Device.”

Yes, of course it’s just a pacifier disguising itself as some kind of medical product, as if a pair of human lips ever needed anything but Carmex (or, for the manly man, Rugged & Dapper Lip Balm). Whisper in the lucky recipient’s ear, “I know your lips are fine. But let this thing soothe you. I use one too.” (It’s okay to lie like this. It’s the holidays.)

Weighted eye pillow - $32

You probably know someone who likes a quick nap but has an unsupportive family. The wife is trying to get a little break and her husband is acting like there’s something wrong with that, passive-aggressively rummaging noisily around the bedroom pretending to look for something, and asking if she knows where it is. Children are even worse, running in and making demands, whining, fighting with their siblings, etc. This is where the weighted eye pillow comes in. It’s weird looking, it’s oddly heavy, it gets warmed in the microwave, and it even off-gases the New Age-y aroma of essential oils (sold separately). Add it all up and you’ve turned Mom’s naptime into a complex ritual that is just a little bit spooky.

Family members probably won’t challenge the bona fides of this pillow as an important element of a therapeutic eastern medicine practice. Likely as not they’ll just clear the hell out—finally!

Brass horseshoe tray - $90

The problem with most gifts is that they’re too obvious. This year the most popular gifts are a) notepads to write passwords in, usually with clever titles embossed on them like “WTF are my passwords?”; b) various hats, t-shirts, aprons, etc. for men that say “THAT’S WHAT I DO – I FIX STUFF AND I KNOW THINGS”; and c) handheld massage guns. Don’t be predictable and/or give the gift your loved one already got—do something original! This gift totally fits that bill, even if it requires some explaining.

It’s not clear what you would put on this brass horseshoe tray since it’s only 3.5 inches long. You could think of it as an ashtray but nobody smokes cigarettes anymore, and the description clearly says its “design and detail … remains untouched by your ash.” (Could it be referring to cremains?) Whatever this thing is, the manufacturer is quick to point out that it “honors freedom and bravery,” is “a dark horse in your home,” and “doubles as a paperweight.” Never mind the mystery around its primary purpose; the lucky recipient is sure to say, “Where has this been all my life?”

Artistic Barbie - $160

It’s the classic Christmas dilemma: your young daughter has asked for a Barbie doll and in fact it’s all she wants, but you live in a progressive community that shuns this iconic American toy for instilling unrealistic body image standards. Despite your (and my) best efforts, nobody seems to want to lighten up, thus Barbie has become the forbidden toy. Well, this Barbie x MoMA Vincent van Gogh The Starry Night Collectible Doll is your ticket to Christmas gift bliss!

Your daughter will enjoy this as simply an extra-beautiful Barbie (and is sure to have its amazing Starry Night gown removed within thirty seconds, per usual). So: mission accomplished. And when your judgmental friends call you on the carpet, you can say, “Oh, did you not recognize that this is an objet d’art from MoMA, inspired by van Gogh?” Suh-LAM! Take that, uppity (and yet philistine) haters!

Pasta water candle - $70

There’s nothing quite like the starchy aroma of pasta boiling on the stove … and yet for so many anti-carb health-conscious types, even the smell can seem like a guilty pleasure. Meanwhile, you can’t exactly give a pasta dinner as a Christmas gift because—even if the pasta is handmade—such a gesture is too inexpensive and easy. But now you can give the same olfactory pleasure in a sophisticated and calorie-free gift!

Look, this special candle doesn’t merely have a pasta-water scent. It has a pasta-water scent profile. The top notes are listed as “saline water,” with heart notes of “Semolina wheat” and base notes of “Chef’s secret.” Best of all, it’s never tested on animals. Gift candles just don’t get any better than this.

Cigar travel case - $23

If the man in your life purports to love a good cigar, he’s surely immersed himself in the culture of it: the fancy cigar box, the Cuban provenance with its concomitant expense, the little clipper to snip the end off, and all the bloviating that goes with this supremely disgusting and offensive affectation of wealth and sophistication. It might seem that encouraging this jerk is the last thing you’d want to do—and yet, it’s the holidays and you want to please him. Well, here is the perfect gift: the cigar travel and accessory case.

It has two cutters, a cigar punch (who knew?), humidifier packs, and even a removable tray. And the best part? It encourages your man to travel! That is, to take his stinky cigars and hit the road, taking the awful stench and pompous blather with him! Good riddance!

Wagyu beef tallow - $33

I don’t need to tell you that this holiday season has officially kicked off the Tallow Wars. Everywhere you look, another tallow is being hawked in this or that gift guide. You’ve got your Manuka Honey Tallow, your Bison Tallow,  your Dead Sea Magnesium & Tallow Balm, and even your Everything Tallow Bundle. It’s a no-brainer that you need to be giving tallow this Christmas, but what if you give the wrong one? What if your loved one already got tallow, and the stuff you gave is inferior? Well guess what: that’s not gonna happen. Because you’ve found the best:

Yeah. Wagyu, no shit. This tallow is Grade A5, the pinnacle of carefully sourced, meticulously produced, proudly pedigreed quality beef. You’re not gonna see marbling like this in some ratty bison tallow. It’s the crème de la crème, baby!

(So what is tallow even for? God, I don’t know. Maybe you cook with it, or make soap, or rub it into your belt and wallet, or maybe into your skin. Its actual purpose is kind of beside the point—this is a gift, after all, and luxury is all you’re after.)

Wine puzzle - $22

One of the paradoxes of middle age is that we’ve now achieved the means to enjoy fine wine, just in time to realize we may be enjoying too much of it, too often. As the famous Harvard Grant Study has shown, a slide into alcohol abuse as we age is a major risk factor for mental health problems. Thus, we’d like to give the gift of encouraging temperance, but speaking up like this is so awkward. Enter the wine puzzle box.

This brilliant gift is a way to celebrate and support the enjoyment of fine wine, while actually slowing down the recipient in a non-judgmental way. Reviewers describe the puzzle as quite challenging, even when the wine drinker cheats and reads the instructions (which you could slyly remove before gift-wrapping it if things have gotten bad). Even when the recipient has memorized the puzzle’s solution sequence, there’s the matter of motor skills to deal with. Pick one up of these up for yourself while you’re at it, if you find it’s getting hard to keep track of how many glasses you pour yourself each night.

Ramen spork - $29

Times are tight for so many of us. Eating out has become astronomically expensive, but who has time to cook? Meanwhile, grocery prices have skyrocketed as well. So I’m not afraid to admit it: I’ve started eating Top Ramen again—something I hadn’t had to resort to since college. Chances are your loved ones are doing the same. So is the solution a gift certificate at Marufuku Ramen in Oakland? No, for three reasons: 1) They don’t even offer gift certificates; 2) Not everyone lives near Oakland, duh; and 3) Who wants to enjoy such an amazing meal when it’ll just highlight how inferior Top Ramen is, making you feel worse about your day-to-day life? The real solution, my friend, is this high-end, precision-crafted spork.

When you think about it, the only problem conventional sporks ever had is their disposable plastic construction. When you twirl your ramen noodles with the tips of this stainless-steel, Japanese-made spork, and then gently dip it into the bowl to lift both noodles and broth to your mouth in the same bite, you’ll feel like a true epicure … even if it’s a $0.50 meal. And so will the lucky recipient of this thoughtful gift.

Digital soul-activating talisman - $50

So many of your friends are into yoga, meditation, and spiritual wellness … am I right? You’ve surely also got friends who make their living in tech, drool at the phrase “data-driven,” and love them some digital gadgets. Still others in your cohort straddle both worlds, developing killer apps by day and then getting all holistic, fit, and spiritually centered in their spare time. Am I on to something here? But wait, there’s more … chances are good some of the yoga-types experience serious FOMO about the tech world, while their tech-savvy counterparts are getting burned out on all things digital. Where you might only see chaos and conflict, I see: opportunity. It’s time you learned about the digital wellness soul-activating talisman ... which is also, believe it or not, an antenna.

This thing is amazing. For one thing, it restores your emotional balance during times of stress: “The precision-tuned copper geometry creates a subtle harmonising field that helps maintain your center even in chaotic environments.” But beyond that, it gives you a way to measure, calibrate, and boast about your consciousness improvement journey, as it “pairs with free tracking app to establish your energetic baseline and monitor improvements over time.” At last, a bridge between the world of tech and the exalted spiritual life! Give your loved one the gift that says, “You can have it both ways!”

Tiffany collar charm - $175

If you’re not familiar with the “Return to Tiffany” program, prepare to be impressed. Launched in 1966, this program saves your bacon in the event you lose your keys, so long as you have a Tiffany keychain embossed with a unique registration number. If someone finds your keys and notices the “Return to Tiffany” engraving, he’ll simply drop the keys off at the flagship Tiffany & Co. store in New York City, and then Tiffany will use the registration number to contact you and reunite you with your keys. It’s a brilliant concept, now extended to—believe it or not—your pet! Check out the exclusive Return to Tiffany™ pet collar charm:

Gone are the days of printing “LOST PET” flyers and plastering them to lamp poles. Now you can just sit back and wait for Tiffany to contact you. Of course there’s no guarantee the finder of your lost pet will take the trouble to ship the animal to New York, or that he’ll remember to punch air holes in the box, but if you believe in Christmas miracles like I do, you’ll rest easy. Tell your kids, “Don’t worry, Tiffany will return Rover to us any day now. And if they don’t, it means Rover found a nice farm in upstate New York and is happier than ever.”

Something for the blogger?

With all this talk of gifts, I’ll bet you’re already thinking about what to get me, the tireless blogger who has toiled all year to amuse and enlighten you. I was about to suggest something—to be precise, a Butler gum stimulator—but then I realized, what if all my readers bought this for me? I’d be swimming in stimulators! So really, all I want is the same thing Meta and Alphabet and X want: your attention. Give that to me … maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon—and for the rest of your life.

Other albertnet holiday posts

• 2024 Online Holiday Gift Guide!
• 2023 Last-Minute Online Holiday Gift Guide!
• 2022 albertnet Last-Minute Online Holiday Gift Guide
• 2021 albertnet Online Holiday Gift Guide
• 2020 albertnet Last-Minute Online Holiday Gift Guide
• The 2019 albertnet Online Holiday Gift Guide
• Interview With Santa Claus
• The 2018 albertnet Christmas Guide
• The Christmas Eve Doldrums
• A Cure for Holiday Consumerist Bloat
• The Black Friday That Wasn’t
• Santa Denial, and How Lance Armstrong Taught Me to Lie
• Fiction – The Happiest Christmas Story I Know
• My 2012 Holiday Newsletter: the Cat’s POV
• My 2011 Holiday Newsletter – Head Lice!
• My 2010 Holiday Newsletter – Importance of Santa Mythology
• Holiday Mall Report: the Lotion Sniper
• My 2009 Holiday Newsletter – Retail in the UK
• The Suppressed 2008 Holiday Newsletter
• Descent Into Chaos: My 2005 Holiday Newsletter

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Email me here. For a complete index of albertnet posts, click here.

 

From the Archives - Guitar Man

Introduction

In 1986, I took a high school creative writing class. The teacher, Mr. Kroop, wore Jams and played whale music and didn’t do a lot of lecturing; instead, he gave out gobs of assignments. We seemed to have something due almost every day. One day he assigned us a character sketch. I think my effort came to more than that, in its primitive way. (Note: by “sketch” he meant only in the literary sense. The drawing below had nothing to do with the assignment and Mr. Kroop never even saw it.)

Guitar man – February 3, 1986

Olga leaned back in her chair. It creaked, threatening to collapse. She belched loudly, and then slumped over the little built-in desk. She was in a meeting at an alcohol rehabilitation center, where she had been sent as part of her sentence for shoplifting at a Liquor Mart. Having smuggled in a flask of Jack Daniels, she was too inebriated to pay attention to the lecture that was being given. Plus, she spoke almost no English.

A bearded man came around passing out magic markers and big sheets of butcher paper. Olga assumed they were to write lists of some kind. Goals? Reasons to do better? Excuses? She wasn’t feeling inspired to write anything, and nobody would be able to decipher her Cyrillic characters anyway. So she just slumped at her desk, her cheek resting on her arm, watching the proceedings unfold sideways. The bearded man said something to her which she ignored. Then she happened to spy, on the wall, a framed picture of a man playing a guitar.

Something was weird about the picture. It was sideways. Of course, Olga’s head was turned on its side, so the picture ought to look sideways, she reasoned, but it just wasn’t right. It was, like, double-sideways. She sat up and looked at again, with her head straight. Now it was upside-down! She shook her head a bit as if to clear it. She looked again. Yes, she had been drinking, but not that much, and the picture was definitely upside-down. What was this, some kind of joke? Some kind of trick? Or a result of very haphazard janitorial service? Was this some visual aid, to be used in some group exercise, serving perhaps as some metaphor? Well, it didn’t matter. Not Olga’s problem. And then she remembered something she’d learned once in an art class, decades ago, back in the old country. Something about drawing upside down, and how it helped you draw what you see, not what you suppose something looks like. Olga realized that, with her butcher paper and marker, she was in a position to draw this right now. Upside-down.

She hadn’t drawn anything with a marker in ages (a spray can being her preferred medium), and she held it tightly in her fist like a toddler with a crayon. She drew rapidly, looking at the framed picture rather than her paper. Once in a while she glanced down and was thrilled to see her drawing taking shape and looking, actually, a bit like a work of art. Some of the lines kind of did their own thing, some petered out instead of joining anything up, and she noted with a frown that the guitar player’s right hand looked a little palsied, but all in all it wasn’t bad. Now if she could just not screw up the face! She focused on the lines and tried to forget what they were supposed to be leading up to. Halfway through finishing his head she couldn’t go on—there was too much goodness on the paper to risk screwing it all up. It had to be considered Done.

She turned the paper around so it was right-side-up and gazed upon her work. Had she really just drawn this? How much time had passed? She realized suddenly that the room around her was in motion, chairs scraping back as people stood up. Somebody was collecting the papers. No! Not hers! She started to roll it up but her fingers were fumbling. It was like she’d used up all her skill and had nothing else left for this task. She stood, stepped back, and tripped over her chair. Her arms flew back and she caught herself from falling, ending up in a crablike position. Her contraband whiskey bottle flew from the pocket of her baggy overcoat and spun across the floor. This caused massive commotion—with all the alcoholics in the room, that bottle was like blood in shark-infested waters. Olga lumbered off toward the exit as if in flight, embarrassed and ashamed to have her smuggling operation discovered. The door swung closed behind her, letting out a little sigh.

The bearded man shook his head and strode toward the abandoned whisky bottle, which was still half full. Nobody raced him for it, but all eyes were on it. Suddenly there was motion again at the double doors, a struggle from the other side, and they started to open together. Olga staggered through, a look of fierce determination on her face. The bearded man practically sprinted for the bottle, but to his surprise Olga marched right by him. There was a large sheet of curled paper near the chair she’d overturned, and she snatched it up, rolled it into a tight scroll, and—flashing a defiant and satisfied look—strode off, in her galumphing way, back out through the door.

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Email me here. For a complete index of albertnet posts, click here.

2023 Last-Minute Online Holiday Gift Guide!

Introduction

Thank goodness you found this post: if you forgot to shop for Christmas and need a surefire gift idea (and fast!), you’ve come to the right place. If you can order something featured here in the next hour or so, you’ll be fine (though you may need to get Santa to deliver it for you). Now, if you’re reading this even a day or two after I posted it, obviously you’re too late, but you know what? Maybe you should start thinking about next year! Plan ahead for once in your life!

I would like to point out that I have not received any free products or other remuneration for showcasing these gifts. Also, I haven’t seen, tried, tasted, or tested them. Caveat emptor! (That’s Klingon for “Don’t let these items hit you in the ass on the way out.”)

Heated hammock - $250

Winter is tough, innit? Perhaps the hardest part is that you’re stuck indoors with your husband 24x7 and, because he’s restless and over-caffeinated, you have to listen to him chatter away and/or mansplain stuff to you whenever there’s no game on. You miss the days of summer when he’d go pass out in his hammock in the backyard. Well, help is on the way with this electrically heated hammock! Just charge the battery, hang it up, and send him packing, no matter the weather!

Best of all, it has three different temperature zones (head, middle, feet) and at least one of them is bound to short out, giving him something to troubleshoot. It’s a win-win!

Handholding mittens - $38

Who among us hasn’t had that insufferable friend or sibling who was so happily in love he threw it in everyone’s faces, with blatant displays of affection, snogging in public like it was going out of style and talking incessantly about how happy he is? And then that vaunted relationship crashed and burned, and you had to hear your friend moan and groan incessantly about being heartbroken? Well, this is the ultimate revenge gift: couples handholding mittens.

There are two ways to enjoy this gift. One, you give it to your spouse/other and the two of you parade around wearing these goofy mittens in front of the fool-for-love, and even suggest that the three of you go for a walk or hike together in the brisk air. Speak at length about how warm that hand is, even (size permitting) making a big show of switching the mittens around so one hand doesn’t “get jealous” of the other, etc. Payback’s a bitch, eh? The other option is that if your annoying friend is still single, give him or her the gift and say, “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll find someone soon, and then you’ll be ready!” You might even suggest he mention the handholding mittens on his online dating profile. Your friend will hate you! It’s brilliant!

My Life Story: So Far - $35

I have to admit, at first I didn’t see the point of this item. At first blush, it’s a journal with various prompts to write your memoirs; kind of like an extension of those baby books that well-meaning new parents dutifully fill out for the first day or two of their newborn’s life. But this journal goes all the way through adulthood, like a template for an entire autobiography. Kind of pointless, right? I mean, if you’re gonna tell your life story, you already know the important bits, right?

But then I looked at some of the sample pages, and suddenly grasped the real point:

It turns out this is for an old person who realizes he or she is starting to become senile. This journal is really more like a cheat sheet, but a socially acceptable one. Imagine if you just used post-its or something to jot down notes of, like, your kids’ names … how mortifying it would be if someone were to find those? Instead, you give your spouse this journal and encourage him or her to fill it out … he or she is just feeding you the answers to embarrassing questions you’re afraid to ask, like “What’s your name again?”

Shower Affirmation Set - $28

This shower affirmation set is another gift idea that initially had me scratching my head. It’s just a set of little cards with encouraging platitudes like, “I am creating a life of passion and purpose,” and “I live in a universe where I am loved and supported.” What makes this gift unique is that these cards are waterproof and stick to the wall of your shower.

I couldn’t understand their purpose, since the world is replete with such messaging and a novel format didn’t seem necessary. And then it hit me: the affirmation isn’t the point, the shower is the point. This is just a ruse to get your slovenly teenager to shower once in awhile! All that praise will actually lure him or her to do a little self-care … brilliant!

Food indecision dice - $14

These dining dice help an indecisive couple decide what to make (or order) for dinner. One die covers the ethnicity, the other the food. I know this sounds pretty boring at first, with predictable outcomes like Mexican fast food and seafood…

But it’s when you get the weirder combos like Chinese pizza, Italian sushi, and Indian steak that this gift shines … you and your partner are going to become true innovators in the kitchen, taking fusion to new heights. Get this right and you might become celebrity chefs!

Bathtime essentials wine holder - $38

If you have a friend or loved one with a drinking problem, the last thing they want on Christmas is your judgment and condemnation. Why not just give them the gift that says, “I love you and I want you to be happy, even if that means drinking in the shower”? Sure, you’re technically being an enabler here, but what the hell, it’s the holidays.

This item would pair nicely with the shower affirmation set, wouldn’t it? Maybe you could even get some custom printed cards, like “It’s okay, Winston Churchill drank, too” and “Hey, you’re just taking the edge off.” Now, if you’re still hung up on that whole alcoholic-complicity thing, consider that eventually the plastic wine glass will get lost (over the edge of the back deck, or deep within the sofa cushions), and then your loved one will use a real glass, and once it shatters on the floor of the shower where shards are sure to draw blood, perhaps this person will realize he or she has finally hit rock bottom. Thanks, bathtime essentials wine holder!

Personalized rubber spatula set - $40

Let’s suppose rubber spatulas, or “splaulas” as you call them, are a really big deal in your family. Suppose when your daughter went off to college you bought her like six beautiful wooden-handled rubber splaulas, and she was so happy to have a bit of home there with her, and then her ridiculous roommates threw them all out without asking, because the splaulas “didn’t match the décor” of the apartment (which is a joke because it  was a fricking dive to begin with). Now it’s time to replace those splaulas … so why not with these?

Very nicely made, super attractive. And the best part is, these splaulas can be personalized, so buy three of them with engraving as follows:

• [Name]’s personal property
• Mess with these &
• I will fucking kill you

Your daughter can tell her roommates, “You might think that’s a joke but my dad is literally a psycho. And he’s visiting over MLK weekend.”

Faceless portrait - $13

You know what’s really romantic? A portrait of you and your significant other. But you know what ruins it? When one or both of you just isn’t that attractive. This can be particularly bad if only one of you “has a face for radio.” Ugliness can kind of ruin the whole look of whatever room you hang the picture in. Well, faceless portrait to the rescue!

It’s stylized! It’s idealized! Squinty eyes, weak chin, huge nose? Gone! And even if somebody declares the portrait is totally creepy, you can plausibly deny it’s even of you! Problem solved … and on the cheap!

Evening primrose soap - $23

Gift giving is hard. How many times have you found the perfect item for someone, only to learn that he or she already bought it? Or that there’s some valid reason they don’t already own it? Often the best gift is the incredibly unusual item they never knew existed. I think this evening primrose soap would check that box for just about anybody.

I showed this to my younger daughter and she said, “Oh my god, that is so Humboldt. It’s just so … Earth goddess lesbian / psychedelic woodsy.” I’m not sure I’m qualified to confirm or deny that assessment, but there’s no question this thing is compelling. It’s both provocatively shapely and … a warty toadstool. What will it look like after it’s been used in the shower for a week? Will the curvaceous buttocks part be totally worn down, and the toadstool end practically untouched? Well, your lucky recipient is about to find out … am I right?

Beer shotgun funnel - $20

Do you have a friend with all the telltale signs of arrested development? Like, he thinks video gaming is still a good way for a 50-something to spend his time, and still has a miniature basketball hoop suction-cupped to his fridge, and still thinks parties should be called “ragers” and that everyone should play drinking games? Has he failed in particular to scale back his drinking in accordance with responsible adult behavior? Well, you can’t exactly give somebody an intervention as a Christmas gift, and that never works anyway, so you might as well roll with it. Won’t he be delighted by this gift, which says “Of course it makes perfect sense for you to be shotgunning beers but you should be doing it more safely”?

This thing just makes sense. I mean, when you’ve already been drinking, so your motor skills are shot, and then you puncture a beer can with a screwdriver or a key, and then put your mouth up to that ragged aperture—all of this with extreme haste because everyone around you is chanting, “CHUG … CHUG … CHUG!”—you’re likely at risk of cutting your mouth. (At least, I should think so … I’ve never actually tried this and only just learned the process via this charming YouTube video which my wife overheard and seemed skeptical about until I told her, “I’m doing research, for my blog!”)

Now, as with the bathtime essentials wine holder, you might feel morally conflicted about seeming to endorse this chugalug activity—even to point of modernizing it with a purpose-built accoutrement. Well, get off your high horse … shouldn’t we give our loved ones something they want, vs. what we think they need? Besides, your friend will surely put this on his keychain and eventually it’ll make a hole in his pocket and he’ll lose his keys and have to retrace his pub crawl steps, growing ever more frantic at each stop, and when he gets to telling his woeful lost-keys story for the fourth time, to the fourth barmaid, whose pity is plain to see, perhaps he’ll realize he’s hit rock-bottom and it’s time to make a change … and you’ll have helped him get there!

Author clock - $199

A couple of years back, my albertnet gift guide described the Albert clock that gives you a math problem to solve instead of just telling you the time. I’m not a fan of the concept, which is why I declared it the perfect revenge gift. Well, this year I stumbled across another clock, this one, that beats around the bush; this time, it quotes a passage from literature that happens to include the time:

Damn it all, I wish I could figure out something snarky to say about this Author Clock, but the more I look at it the more I think this thing is actually pretty cool. Granted, I like to look at big hands on a wall clock, or little hands on my wristwatch, but I also love books and reading and why does this thing have to be so freaking expensive?

Electric salt & pepper shakers - $36

It’s kind of the curse of middle age: we’ve finally developed sophisticated tastes—for example, we’ll no longer settle for pre-ground pepper or even pre-ground salt—and yet we’re starting to develop repetitive stress injuries from traditional peppermills and really need to take care of ourselves. Well, your friends and/or siblings are in luck: check out this ingenious product!

Now, it’s not your friends’ first rodeo so you can expect a furrowed brow as they unpackage these bad boys. “Don’t worry,” you’re (ideally) there to tell them, “the manufacturer has relocated the battery compartment to the top, so you won’t get the salt powder corrosion your last set had. And they’ve switched to lighter weight AAA batteries so you won’t hurt yourself hefting them.” Now your friend is starting to get excited … but you haven’t even told him the best part. “Each has a built-in flashlight,” you declare triumphantly, “so you can totally use them camping!” Now your friend is grinning from ear to ear. It won’t even occur to him that these should logically be designed to sync with an app on his smartphone, and really ought to have built-in Bluetooth speakers. So you’re all set for Version 3.0, which will surely be available by this time next year!

Something for the blogger?

With all this talk of gifts, I’ll bet you’re already thinking about what to get me, the tireless blogger who has tried all year to amuse and enlighten you. Normally I would assure you I don’t need anything, or would suggest you perform, on my behalf, an interpretive dance on TikTok that will make this blog go viral. But this year I’m shifting gears: would somebody please buy me that Author Clock? Click here for shipping details.

Other albertnet holiday posts

• 2022 albertnet Last-Minute Online Holiday Gift Guide
• 2021 albertnet Online Holiday Gift Guide
• 2020 albertnet Last-Minute Online Holiday Gift Guide
• The 2019 albertnet Online Holiday Gift Guide
• Interview With Santa Claus
• The 2018 albertnet Christmas Guide
• The Christmas Eve Doldrums
• A Cure for Holiday Consumerist Bloat
• The Black Friday That Wasn’t
• Santa Denial, and How Lance Armstrong Taught Me to Lie
• Fiction – The Happiest Christmas Story I Know
• My 2012 Holiday Newsletter: the Cat’s POV
• My 2011 Holiday Newsletter – Head Lice!
• My 2010 Holiday Newsletter – Importance of Santa Mythology
• Holiday Mall Report: the Lotion Sniper
• My 2009 Holiday Newsletter – Retail in the UK
• The Suppressed 2008 Holiday Newsletter
• Descent Into Chaos: My 2005 Holiday Newsletter

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Email me here. For a complete index of albertnet posts, click here.

Life Hacks

Introduction

In this essay I examine the most modern meaning of “hack” (essentially, short for “life hack”) and provide a half dozen useful life hacks that I’ve stumbled upon myself. 

First, some etymological rambling

I most recently came across hack-as-a-noun in The New Yorker, which had four essays from various writers under the heading “Life Hacks.”  These essays—which needless to say inspired this one—included a software recommendation, a critique of A.I. cooking, an essay about gaming Twitter, and an examination of whether screen time is bad for kids.

As recently as 2004, The New Yorker itself defined “hack” very differently.  The term was only described in the sense of computer meddling, though the article allowed that “hacker” could mean—in geek parlance—“a righteous dude.”  In modern parlance, “hack” can be a noun—not in the original noun sense of “a rough cut, blow, or stroke,” “a writer or journalist producing dull, unoriginal work,” or “a horse for ordinary riding”—but as a reverse formation from the verb “to hack,” meaning to do something in an unconventional way.  Urbandictionary.com’s top definition of “lifehack” is (as of the moment), “A tool or technique that makes some aspect of one's life easier or more efficient.”  (“Hack” in the sense of computer hacking—or “cracking,” as pedants now describe the illegal stuff—is gradually being displaced.)

The first time I heard of “hack” as life hack was around a year ago when a mom on my kid’s high school mountain bike team asked, “What do you think of this hack:  after a muddy ride, I take my daughter’s bike to the self-service car wash and spray it off with the high pressure nozzle.”  (In case you’re wondering, this is a bad idea:  such a powerful spray can get past the seals on the bike’s bearings and destroy them.)  I answered, “Fine hack, but you better watch out for the NSA.”  No I didn’t.  (I warned her about the bearings.)

And now, on to the life hacks I recommend.

Life hack #1:  switch from cotton to wool

It might seem strange for a Californian to recommend wool over cotton.  It’s warm and sunny year-round here like in Baywatch, right?  Well, not exactly … it does get cool and damp here, which bothers us because we’re all wusses.  Plus, Californians still sometimes get rained on, which is the sweet spot for wool because wool keeps you warm even when it’s wet.  If you live in a place with real winters, you’ll get even more benefit.

But warmth isn’t all wool has going for it.  It also feels less clammy on the skin (very important when you’re hot and sweaty) and, in the case of socks, is more comfortable and durable than cotton.  Wool socks provide better cushion, don’t slide down your leg, and don’t become threadbare at the heel.  Don’t tell anybody this, but I like to wear wool cycling socks with my business suit.  They’re tall enough that nobody would ever know!

Synopsis:  Wool is like cotton on steroids.

Life hack #2:  stop trying to get your cat to love you

(Note:  if you don’t have a cat, run right out and get one, preferably from the pound, and then come back and finish this essay.)

Pet ownership (or, as they say in Berkeley, “human guardianship of companion animals”) can be hard, especially with cats.  We love them so much, but they don’t love us back!  They turn their noses up, or more to the point turn away so their butts are in our faces.  In short, cats are disloyal, snooty, and antisocial.  It’s heartbreaking.

But if you stop dreaming of a love that can never be, and accept the truth about cats, you’ll realize it has its benefits.  Their attitude takes all the pressure off, frankly.  It’s impossible to disappoint a cat, and almost impossible to sell a cat short.  All a cat wants is regular feeding, a roof over his or her head, and a clean cat box.  So you never feel guilty!  What dog owner hasn’t regretted his or her inability—or, let’s admit it, unwillingness—to give poor Waldo the attention, walkies, and love that he deserves? 

Then there’s the matter of energy levels.  Most of us humans are tired all the time.  The way a cat naps 24x7, she does a pretty good job of seeming to relate.  Contrast this with the burden of a dog’s crazy energy:  the frenzied greeting at the door, the bounding around, the almost pathetic hope he musters up when you go anywhere near his leash.  I don’t think I could handle it.  Much better to pick up a cat when you feel like it, pet her a little, notice her complete apathy, and walk away convinced that there’s no need to try any harder. 

Once you acknowledge these benefits and stop craving the attention this beast will never give you, it’s easy to love her all the more, even if most of your human/cat interaction is you watching her sleep.

Synopsis:  a cat is like your pet dog on Quaaludes.

Life hack #3:  go back to traditional books

Embracing the very latest meaning of “hack,” here’s an ironic one:  “Stop futzing with technology in your spare time.”  That is, set aside your phone, your tablet, and your laptop and spend some more time with traditional books.  Since most of our leisure time is in the evening, the main benefit of books is that they don’t interfere with sleep.  There are so many studies out now about screen time causing insomnia, I won’t bother to cite any (but here is a listing to get you started).  The idea is that the bright screen confuses your brain and inhibits melatonin production. 

Beyond any issues around sleep, old-school books, unlike various screen-based sources of text, can be bought used, borrowed, or checked out from the library.  Thus, you don’t have to pay for them—whether with your money or your privacy.

Plus, reading a traditional book also increases the odds that you’re reading something worthwhile; after all, a publisher wouldn’t spend good money printing most of the folderol on the Internet—all the blogs, online magazines, tweets, and mindless comments from haters.

Perhaps best of all, you can read a paper-bound book in bed without bothering your spouse/other.  Sure, there are some who wouldn’t mind the intrusion of a Kindle, tablet, or phone, but there are plenty more—like mine—who mind very much.  In fact, my wife put her foot down and won’t allow my smartphone in the bedroom at all.  On the flip side, I really doubt there’s a spouse/other on the planet who insists on a screen instead of a book.

Besides, isn’t there just something so cozy about a good old-fashioned book?

Synopsis:  a paper book is like an e-book on selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors.

Life hack #4:  drink your coffee black

I won’t elaborate a lot on this because I wrote a whole essay about it:  click here.

Synopsis:  coffee, neat.

Life hack #5:  get thee to a library

I am so sick of people telling me, “I can’t believe you don’t have Netflix!”  You know what?  Netflix—just like the cable TV companies—can go straight to Hell (where they’ll surely join bike thieves, telemarketers, and tobacco industry executives).  Since you’re forking out good money for these subscription-based services, you have a built-in lizard-brain impulse to get your money’s worth, which leads to all kinds of wasted time.  And you know what else?  I happen to know—because I surf Netflix when I donate platelets—that their movie selection is bad and getting worse.  Twice I’ve started a movie—and not my first choice, mind you, because they didn’t have it—hoping to finish it next time, only to discover on my next visit that the movie I’d been watching is no longer available. 

My library, on the other hand, has all kinds of movies.  I can reserve them online, pick them up from my local branch when they’ve been brought over, and keep them for 3 or 6 or 9 weeks, so I can watch them when I get around to it.  Often, when I happen to be at the library, I’ll grab a few movies practically at random and give them a try.  If, after 10 minutes, I’m not enjoying the movie, I’ll just eject it and try another.  Costs me nothing.

This works the same with books, of course, with the added benefit that you don’t have to struggle with the great debate of whether it’s harmful to authors and publishers to order from Amazon.  An added bonus is that the library is a great place to hang out, enjoy some peace and quiet (and free WiFi), and get some work done, without having to order coffee or food to pay your rent.  Meanwhile, you’re supporting a public institution which, as recently lamented by a fine author, is under threat (at least in the UK, and probably in this country as well).

Synopsis:  a library is like getting Netflix, Amazon, and a coffee shop on the house.

Life hack #6:  only drink with friends

A famous Harvard study on happiness, which tracked 268 men from all walks of life over a 75-year span, proposes two central ways to prolong and enjoy your life:  value your relationships and don’t abuse alcohol.  As described here, the study found that alcoholism among those studied “was the main cause of divorce” and “was strongly correlated with neurosis and depression.”  And as quoted here, the main author of the study, Dr. George Vaillant, declared, based on the evidence, “Our relationships with other people matter, and matter more than anything else in the world.”

After losing a good friend of mine this summer to a tragic accident, I decided to try to get out and see friends more.  Simultaneously, I noted my 10-pound weight gain since the previous summer, and (as I cannot bring myself to eat less food) decided that my (albeit moderate) alcohol consumption had to come down a bit.  So now I don’t stock my fridge with beer anymore.  If I want a drink, I have to go out.  From the Harvard study perspective, I’m killing two birds with one stone.  Is it working?  Yeah, I think so.  I’m seeing more of my friends, and have lost half that extra weight.

Synopsis:  imagine this initially breezy essay bogged down with bulgur wheat, flax seed, and other dietary fiber.  Yeah, sorry about that.

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For a complete index of albertnet posts, click here.

Fiction - The Bowl

Introduction

What follows is a work of fiction.  All characters are totally made-up and any resemblance of any character to any real person, living or dead, or to any person who might be born at any point in the future, is purely coincidental.  Even objects not described by a proper noun are fictional.  There isn’t even a real bowl, nor any pile of actual vomit, and there’s not really a carpeted van.  Please don’t sue me.

The Bowl

So, somebody left this bowl at my house after the party.  I figured I’d just hang out and somebody would claim it, but that hasn’t happened.  Which is sort of surprising, actually.

Maybe somebody (i.e., the somebody who brought the bowl) had a really bad time at the party.  It did get a bit crowded in the kitchen, which I thought was cozy and gezellig, but who knows, maybe somebody felt claustrophobic.  Or did somebody have a bad time because of me?  I don’t think I got that drunk, and I’m 99% sure I didn’t tell anybody off.  Anyway, if you want your bowl back but just can’t face returning to the house, fear not:  if nobody claims it, I’ll put it out on the porch overnight and you can sneak over and fetch it.

But I’m actually guessing I’m not the problem—it’s probable that the owner of the bowl just doesn’t want it back, for whatever reason.  Maybe this person just binge-watched a season of Hoarders Miami – Major Depressives and is suddenly repulsed by almost all household objects, and this bowl is just collateral damage from that experience.  Maybe this person leaves behind at least one object wherever he or she goes.

But that’s a long shot; probably this abandonment boils down to the bowl itself.  Maybe it’s got a storied past.  Maybe it was a wedding present from somebody’s then-stepmother, who had to be invited to the wedding even though everybody knew that marriage (between the father and the stepmother) was doomed, which it has proven to be, as this bowl has outlasted that marriage by many years.  Maybe the owner of this bowl always hated this stepmother (or worse, this stepmother-in-law) but somehow just kept the bowl around, it being a handy size, and recently had some subconscious impulse which, if it could be put into words, would be something like “Now’s your chance!”

Maybe it’s even worse than that!  Maybe somebody’s college roommate, a real sweetheart, not in that sexy girl-next-door way but more of a den-mother type way, made the bowl in pottery class as an ashtray, a terrific jumbo-sized ashtray because somehow this crappy little student-ghetto rental house attracted all the smokers, they all smoked like chimneys, and never dumped the ashtray so a normal-sized one was impractical.  So this was call the butt-bowl and when the sweetheart roommate became more skillful in pottery she made another ashtray that was shaped like a giant butt, the perfect butt-bowl, and it was this hilarious running joke all through college, and when everybody graduated Matt got the actual butt-shaped-bowl and my party guest got this, the original butt-bowl, and they continued to make random jokes about it over the decades until earlier this year when Matt (who’d been smoking since junior high) was diagnosed with lung cancer.  I wouldn’t want my butt-bowl back either.

Or maybe my party guest felt bad about this bowl because he or she has used it as a compost bowl for the last few years and—at the last minute before heading over—needed something to put the roast garlic in and just cleaned it out real quick, and then on the drive over his or her spouse/other said, “I can’t believe you’re bringing food in that—it reeks!” and they got in this big fight over it because the second spouse/other has always hated the smell of compost and couldn’t scrub the smell out of that bowl, no matter how hard he or she tried, and in fact had a childhood trauma around being made to eat a hard-boiled egg at a campground once even though he or she hated them and was sure to vomit, which he or she actually did, right there at the campground, and it was fricking pink for some reason, and something about the smell of decomposing compost always brings him or her right back to that campground and “Can we please, please get a proper compost bin with a tight-fitting lid, and never look at this stinky bowl again?”

Or maybe the truth is even darker.  Maybe my party guest got this bowl from her mom, who divulged a chilling back-story.  Maybe the mom grew up in a totally dysfunctional family, both parents complete drunks, and one night they were all actually cooperating in the kitchen, cleaning up and washing dishes, and it was almost pleasant and she thought, “We’re all getting along, like a real family!” and then something snapped, maybe her dad insulted her mom, who threw a plate at him, and he threw a mug at her, and next thing you know the kids are taking sides and the whole family is screaming and throwing bowls, plates, cutlery, it’s all smashing all over the place, and this goes on for like five straight minutes and it’s a miracle nobody gets hit by a flying saucer, until everything is broken, and amazingly they all start laughing, and (the mom concludes), “It was actually kind of fun, if you can believe that! And then I discovered this bowl hiding under a towel, the sole survivor, and I decided since it could have just as well been broken, I’d take it for myself, and I kept it when I went off to college and had it for decades until I just couldn’t handle all this history anymore, which is why I gave it to you.”  And her son or daughter used it for years too, until he or she came to the same conclusion about its history, which is why it’s going unclaimed now.

Wow, the ravings of a lunatic!  Of course the truth must be simpler and less dramatic than all that.  Not that it’s completely simple, or the bowl would have been claimed by now—but surely nothing sinister is going on.  Maybe the partygoer has a secret that’s not so dark, but a secret nonetheless, which exerts a small but nontrivial force.  Maybe he (to randomly pick a pronoun) was poking around in a thrift store or pawn shop with his wife/other, and saw her admiring this handmade bowl, and she said, “You can tell it’s handmade because it’s imperfect—the rim isn’t perfectly round, see” and he could tell she liked it, but she never bought anything for herself, even a used bowl that’s like a buck fifty, and they left without it, and the next day he sneaked back there and bought it, figuring that when, a day or two later, she would say, “I should have bought that bowl, I really liked it,” he could magically produce it, and she’d throw her arms around him and nuzzle at his neckline.  And his scheme actually played out, almost exactly like that, except that when he went to buy the bowl, the clerk said, “Oh, you know what, I actually have the box that came in!” and went to the back and fetched a box that had a photograph of the bowl on it and the words “Real Ceramic Bowl” and when he looked closely he saw that even in the photo the bowl had that irregular rim, for that clumsy handmade look, so that he could imagine hundreds, thousands of these streaming down a conveyor belt, all absolutely identical with the same fake imperfection along the rim engineered to give the bowl a handmade (dare we say “artisanal”?) look, and so of course he threw away the box before presenting the bowl to his wife, and his wife never knew the truth, and she thought warmly of the bowl for all those years so every time he saw it he felt kind of shitty.  So, having left it behind at the party, he’s hoping she won’t figure out where the bowl went to.

Or maybe, just maybe, the bowl has no interesting history at all, but something about it triggers unpleasant memories anyway.  Maybe it’s something about the stripes, about how instead of being straight and level they rise up on one side, like a curling lip, like the perpetual sneer, more of a smirk than a grin, that that one kid on swim team always had … what was his name?  Mike King.  Who always seemed to be making fun of you, who pretended to be nice but this was a form of mockery, and you badly wanted to believe he was being nice for real, so much so that when, after the Cherry Creek Invitational swim meet, he invited you to listen to Kiss in the back of his uncle’s van, you actually said yes, and you sat uncomfortably in this carpeted van listening to this weird music you didn’t like, and Mike King smirking the whole time, and when you left the van (squinting in the sudden, dazzling sun) you couldn’t find your family, and when you did they bawled you out for wandering off, where the hell were you, and then you found out they went out for pizza, which your family never did, and you missed out, and your brothers rubbed this in mercilessly until you pitched a massive tantrum, one that was so big it became bigger than you, to where you didn’t even know how to shut it down, and all the while you were tantrum-ing the family was making this grim procession back to the car—it seemed like miles—and somewhere along the line it dawned on you that you were too old for tantrums like this, and this would have to be your last.  Having all this memory bubble up every time you look at the lopsided stripe on this bowl … I can’t blame you, I wouldn’t want the bowl back myself.

You know what?  I will confess I’ve inherited things before after parties, little Tupperwares or serving spoons or whatever, and when they’ve gone unclaimed and become part of our stuff here, I didn’t really mind.  But in this case, I don’t think I can ever accept this bowl as one of my own.  It’s just too distinctive and too freighted with possible significance.  So please, somebody claim it—but for God’s sake don’t reply-all.  And seriously, if I don’t hear from anybody by Sunday night I’ll put it out on the porch for you.  Please, please come get it.