2022 Last-Minute Online Holiday Gift Guide!

Introduction

I reckon you’ve arrived here after googling “last-minute Christmas gifts free overnight shipping” or perhaps after crying out, “Oh shit, Alexa, I forgot to shop for Christmas!” (In my household we’d be saying this to our older daughter Alexa by way of apology, as opposed to addressing an Amazon Echo.) Or perhaps your shopping is done and you just want to gloat, and see what acts of desperation the less-organized are resorting to. Either way, you’ll get a candid review of various products that, if nothing else, would be more exciting than another sweater or book.

Cooling weighted blanket - $30

Wait, what? A blanket that cools you? Does it have water running through it like a radiator or something? No, it’s just full of glass beads, to make it heavy. This apparently helps a person sleep. I guess it would be less warm than 15 pounds of blankets. If the concept is good, this could be the perfect gift: that is, the thing your recipient didn’t even know exists, and which solves a problem she didn’t even know she had. The manufacturer claims it “offers a natural way to calm your body for a restful night of sleep, feels like a hug and perfect for people who are under deep pressure that need a relaxing and good sleep. It will a be a best Halloween gift for your family.” Gosh, lots to unpack here. If I understand this correctly, if you’re under deep pressure, metaphorically speaking, the solution is to put yourself under deep pressure literally? As for it being a best Halloween gift, I wasn’t even aware I was supposed to give gifts for that. Maybe the scary costumes stress people out?

So does this thing work? The ratings are generally favorable, and one five-star reviewer wrote, “The material is soft and the heat transfer is on par with some of the golf shirts I own.” I’m not sure what that even means, having never worn a golf shirt. I looked at the Q&A and one respondent wrote, “There is NO cooling aspect with this blanket. If anything it makes me hotter.” That person liked the weight, though, and took care of the heat issue with a $2200 WiFi-connected mattress cover.

Let’s not forget that “the gift of giving” shouldn’t be neglected—in other words, let’s consider what benefit might accrue to you, the giver. Well, have you ever spent $11.45 to ship a $10 mug that weighs less than a pound? So annoying. This bad boy weighs over 15 pounds and ships for free.

Y2K Chill Pillow - $27

Is this pill-shaped pillow timeless? Perhaps. On the one hand, it’s touted as a “Y2K Fashion Room Décor Aesthetic” which would make it very retro, but it’s also “As Seen on TikTok.” One thing is for sure: it’s “perfect size & shape for soft for cuddles people.”

Insofar as “cool girls will love” it, and “you can use it as a way to relax, hug it when you cool down,” I might want this thing for myself, but it’s really touted mainly as a gift, for your “girlfriend, wife, nurses, med or law student, pharmacy techs, icu, therapist, or anyone in a stressful job.” You know what I’m thinking? This would pair really well with the cooling weighted blanket!

Be aware, though, that you will be sending your recipient a message: that you can tell she is really high-strung and really needs to chill out. “Take a chill pill” is often considered kind of a put-down. So be careful or you may take this pillow to the face.

Novelty candle - $20

I’m really not sure what the point of this candle is. I mean, in my experience, guys aren’t really into fancy candles, but women aren’t really into celebrating the nexus of illicit drugs and prostitution. So whom is this really for?

Meanwhile, I have to wonder, what scent is this candle supposed to imply? Does anybody know what cocaine actually smells like? I’ve never heard this smell described or even mentioned, which is kind of funny, considering that coke is snorted up the nose. When I google “the smell of,” Autocomplete suggests rain, money, rebellion, other people’s houses, and death … but not cocaine. As for the smell of a hooker, I would rather not think about it. I suspect it’s nothing like White Sage & Lavender, or Black Currant & Jasmine.

More wholesome novelty candles - $26

Let’s face it, the Cocaine & Hookers candle is a bit racy, but that doesn’t mean candles in general aren’t a great idea. Some people just can’t wait to light a new candle and appreciate its therapeutic benefits, while others will dig it out during a power outage and say, “Thank God I actually held on to this thing!” So here are a few safer options for a nice gift candle:

The aroma of these is helpfully provided on the manufacturer’s website, and each candle has its own. This creates an opportunity for a fun game: a houseguest can say, “Mmmmmm, I’m smelling sea air, rum, and wood … what could that be? A candle celebrating Admiral Vernon ofthe Royal Navy?” The host could giggle, “No, but you’re close: it’s Alexander Hamilton, and this candle recalls his ocean voyage to NYC!” Yay!

Escape reality interactive paperweight - $100

Is it just me, or do a lot of this season’s gifts reflect the need to cool down and relax? Well, insofar as I selected them, maybe it is just me. In any case, this paperweight purports to help you “escape into a magical realm of wonder,” like a little break from reality.

Feeling calmer already, eh? Naw, I’m just messing with you. The real magic starts when you download the free companion app and point your phone at the gemstone. Suddenly, it’s a magical holographic experience:

So, perhaps you’re wondering, why not just look at other magical, mystical videos etc. right on your phone? Oh, come on, be a sport. This is interactive. At least, for you. Others seeing you pointing your phone at this inert disk may think you’ve lost it completely.

I had the antique version of this experience, back in the ‘90s, by the way … which is also available as a gift:

On one occasion back then, my wife and I had a friend over who stared at our little lamp with a dumbfounded expression, trying to understand the point. Finally she said, “Oh, I get it … it’s because you guys don’t have a TV!”

Luxury grooming tool kit - $75

Women, are you tired of your man having gross nails and a poor complexion? It’s time to do something about it—but in a loving and supportive way. This grooming kit comes with 16 tools to help make that man less gross.

This thing’s got it all: two fingernail clippers (I guess one’s for backup), toenail clippers, an ear pick, a dead skin fork (yum!), an acne needle (ouch!) and, among other things, a beautiful vegan leather man-purse to keep it all in. If he gives a perfunctory thank-you and then shelves it with the fancy lotion you bought him last year, well, he’s within spec even for a modern man. But if he actually uses this stuff, marry him—quick!

Boyfriend’s Mom Necklace - $35

This lovely necklace comes with a heartfelt card dedicating the gift: “To My Boyfriend’s Mom.” So it’s not a universal gift, but if you’re trying to suck up to the woman you hope might end being your mother-in-law, this should be just the thing.

In case you can’t read the fine print there, it includes this: “Your gentle smiles is a reminder to love more deeply and your accomplishments is a motivation to chase after my own dreams. And this card inspires me to go back to school and learn some grammar.” Okay, I made up that last bit.

Now, what if you’re actually kind of tired of your boyfriend, and/or his fingernails are gross and he’s got too many blackheads? Or if you’ve only been dating for like a month? Give the gift anyway! He and his mom will be so freaked out, they’ll run for the nearest exit! Mission accomplished!

There’s one more purpose for this necklace: if you swing both ways and you’d like to get with your boyfriend’s mom. She’s probably more mature and surely has prettier nails. Give it a whirl!

Crystal ball nightlight - $21

Suppose you’re an aunt or uncle, and your poor niece or nephew has those kind of modern permissive parents who never set boundaries. It’s time to scare this kid straight, and this incarceration-themed nightlight is just the way to do it.

That is just so creepy the way this poor little rabbit is clearly trapped in this strange torture dome. Look how stressed he is. And what is that, some kind of lightning bolt stabbing him in the back? I asked my daughter and she said no, that’s Pikachu, the Pokémon character! She showed me some pictures but no way, Pikachu is always smiling! He looks joyful! This little Pikachu is miserable because he knows he’s so screwed! And look at the effect this strange nightlight has on kids:

At first blush, the little girl looks to be smiling, but check out the clenched jaw and the look in her eye: she’s about to cry. And the boy looks really tense too. This toy teaches these kids a lesson: it’s not all rainbows and unicorns in this world! This could happen to you! (My own daughter said of this nightlight, “God, that thing would give me nightmares.”)

Gucci stuffed lion - $735

Of this item in their “Gifts for Women” catalog, Gucci declares, “Green mane and tail detailing complete the style for an authentic portrayal.”

I have no words.

Gucci wristwatch - $1850

Why should women have all the fun, getting incredibly expensive gifts? Look at this fancy wristwatch:

Never before has a gift so strongly inspired the words, “You shouldn’t have.” I mean, what the hell is this thing? Is Gucci just trying to be annoying? Imagine squinting at that watch face, trying to sort out what time it is.

I have racked my brain trying to understand this watch. At least there’s no way you’d scratch it, right? Maybe this is, like, an armored watch for the man with an incredibly rough-and-tumble lifestyle, like a stuntman? But the fine print suggests otherwise: “When possible avoid any impact that might damage your watch.” So maybe there is no point to this timepiece . Or, more likely, I’m just too pedestrian and vulgar to appreciate the finer things.

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. Well, I really don’t need anything, seriously. But if you must, how about performing an interpretive dance on TikTok that will make this blog go viral? Either that, or mail me a rubber spatula. I can never have too many of those.

Other albertnet holiday posts

• 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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From the Archives - Asilomar Resort

Introduction

Before I begin, don’t forget that Saturday, March 31 is Earth Hour.  At 8:30 p.m. local time, shut off all your lights and electronics.  An hour later, when everything is back on, look to these pages for a full (well, my full) report.

I was reading a science article in “New Yorker” recently and came across this:  “In 1975, when biologists met at Asilomar, California, to discuss....”  Right away I could picture the Asilomar Conference Center, having vacationed there before.  In fact, I thought, didn’t I write a little essay about that?  I did, a couple decades ago, and here it is.

Asilomar resort – July 30, 1995

We had a vacation.  I’d have been satisfied just sitting motionless on the sofa like a lizard on a rock for two days.  Instead we went all-out and, with the in-laws, went down the coast to a resort called Asilomar, near Carmel. 

I should point out that I did nothing to help plan this weekend,  which is actually my preferred way of vacationing.  If I’d gotten more involved, I would have realized that Asilomar is located in a place I’ve been to at least a dozen times to visit relatives.  The Asilomar resort is about the closest lodging you can get to the ocean without actually owning property in the prestigious 17-Mile Drive community of Pebble Beach.  It’s a mere 150 feet or so from the boardwalk, a wooden sidewalk that meanders through a bunch of sand dunes covered with all kinds of interesting indigenous flowers.  The boardwalk ends at a two-lane road that connects Monterey, Pacific Grove, and Pebble Beach. 

In all my trips to this beach I’d never noticed the resort.  I think this speaks well for the place.  The official name of the resort is “Asilomar Conference Center,” and most of the people there are attending some formal conference.  I guess they get a certain number of chance visitors like ourselves, but that didn’t make me feel any less uneasy that I didn’t have a name tag.  I felt that a couple of people looked at me warily, as though I must have had a name tag, but was choosing not to wear it as some kind of rebellion.

The resort itself is a huge compound of brown shingle lodges that look like apartment buildings.  Each one bears a wooden plaque announcing its name:  “The View Crescent,” “Whitecaps,” “The North Woods,” “Willow” (where we stayed), and “Curlew,” to name a few.  They’re outfitted with magnificently seventies furniture (brown-orange vinyl) and each room has at least one deer painting.

I should emphasize the undeniably pleasurable amenities of the place:  the surf is beautiful, and the air a wonderfully crisp blend of ocean-smell and pine.  There are indeed deer hanging around, and the rock formations on the beach have perfect little tide pools filled with hermit crabs and snails and whatnot.  We even saw a sea otter out among the waves, diving to avoid the waves and drifting on his back eating. 

Beyond that, I felt the place was strange, almost like an enchanted fairy tale.  After driving through a grand arched gate bearing the Asilomar name,  we suddenly had to be careful not to run anybody over.  People wandered around right in the middle of the street, looking at us in surprise as though we were driving on the sidewalk.  An old guy in a tattered, faded “Asilomar” polo shirt (clearly a repeat visitor) seemed to eye me with suspicion.  There was no signage.  After driving around awhile looking for Willow, we felt lost—and in fact, we were.  The roads make about as much sense as those of 17-Mile Drive (i.e., they twist all around like a plate of pasta).

After checking into our room, I felt as though we conspicuously lacked official business on the grounds, and we spent most of the evening at the beach straying too far out into the water and soaking our shoes and the cuffs of our pants.  Then, we went down to the lodge and learned that we had missed dinner.  We alone didn’t know dinner was served only from 6:00 until 7:00.  We showed up at 7:30 and had missed the whole thing, from the fruit cup all the way past the steak, the potatoes, and even the pudding.  After eating at a restaurant in Monterey, we returned to the lodge to sleep, and the next morning we didn’t fail to make it to breakfast on time.

When we arrived at breakfast, I noticed right away that our meal tickets were not the same color as everybody else’s.  Not only that, but we weren’t seated in the large dining area with everybody else, but were taken down a hallway to a much smaller room, where we were seated at a table with a couple of strangers.  Not having any common ground with them, we talked about the fruit, the yogurt (why Nutrasweet?) and other things of no importance.  Lack of participation in any conference was a matter of quiet shame, I felt, for all of the outcasts in the auxiliary dining hall.

Walking the grounds on the way back to the beach, I noticed how friendly and full of joy everybody was.  It was like a weird “Star Trek” episode from the ‘60s.  Grown men rubbed each others’ backs.  Everybody beamed.  Name tags were prominently displayed.  People had a skip in their steps.  I witnessed countless displays of people inquiring into each others’ health, comfort, and happiness.  The only exception to universal bliss was a member of our own party who complained that there had been no shampoo in the shower.  Beyond that, everything was Leave It to Beaver. 

In fact, I couldn’t help but feeling—and perhaps this is merely the projection of a wicked soul on an innocent utopia—that there was some kind of shiny veneer over everybody; that their joie-de-vivre was perhaps slightly forced, that the universal spirit of goodwill was a trompe l’oeil, like the splinter-free fake wood of the card tables.

Why couldn’t people admit that this was simply a decadent weekend getaway?  Why not confess that a weekend at this paradise was a simple exercise in unrestrained hedonism?  Why the moral imperative of using this opportunity to be noble and good and true to some cause?  Returning to our room, I found a little card that management left for us:

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

To Our Guests:

We came across an ancient prayer, updated it slightly and offer it to you with our heartfelt thanks to you for coming to Asilomar.

                                The Stranger Within Our Gates

Because this conference center is a human institution to serve people, we hope that you will be granted peace and rest while you are under our roof.

May this room and conference center be your “second” home.  May those you love be near you in thought and dreams.  Even though we may not get to know you, we hope that you will be comfortable and happy, as if you were in your own home.

May the business that brought you our way prosper.  May every contact you make and every message you receive add to your joy.  When you leave, may your journey be safe.

We are all travelers.  From “birth till death” we travel between the eternities.  May these days be pleasant for you, profitable for society, helpful for those you meet and a joy to those who know and love you best.

                                Asilomar’s Staff

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

A prayer, no less!  And yet, it has those few very un-prayer-like phrases:  “may every contact you make...” and  “may the business ... prosper.”  And the bit about making this our “‘second’ home” sounded a lot like an ad (“y’all come back now, ya hear?”) for the resort itself.  (And those quotation marks around “second” ... was that in deference to those who actually do have second, even third, homes?)

But perhaps I wouldn’t have been moved to comment at all if it weren’t for the tourist guide supplied in our room.  In addition to the normal promotional “articles” about local restaurants, it had a section describing the character of each of the nearby communities.  The suggestions of apotheosis continued:

“Even though the years alter the face of Pebble Beach, its charm remains.  It is this essence of place that radiates like a halo to embrace every moment in its magic.”

Can’t you just see the unicorns? the rainbows?  And yet, incongruously, this soft-focus statement appears in an article boldly titled “Pebble Beach:  The Elite Address.”  The natural landscape is commemorated briefly, but the real thrust of the article beings, “In 1915, Samuel Finley Brown Morse, manager of Pacific Improvement Company, forced a grand rethinking of the coastline acreage.”  What follows is the moving tale of how this unimportant community became the host of the prestigious Pebble Beach golf course.  Names of pro golfers are dropped like ticker tape.  The merits of the golfing in Pebble Beach are expounded at length.  Wealth and prestige are championed.  I wish I had some more juicy quotes, but I wasn’t allowed to remove the book from the room.

As I leafed through the fashion (i.e., advertising) section of the book, I came upon material that could (and should) make any tourism board blush.  Decadence, and the “magic” that expensive gifts can bring, are celebrated shamelessly throughout the fashion section.  One photo is of a good looking couple posing on a golf cart, both attired lavishly, the woman’s hat graced by a bunch of fake grapes.  The couple’s eyes twinkle.  The caption, in large italic letters and surrounded by quotes, reads, “He wants you to learn to play golf.  You’re not so sure, but you’d do anything to make him happy....”  That’s the spirit.  We wouldn’t want the magnificent expense of a world-class golf course to deter the complete novice....

The next page has a woman dressed in a lavish sequined evening gown.  The caption reads, “He said to wear something elegant....”  The woman reader automatically completes the sentence:  “... but I haven’t got a thing to wear!”  After all, who packs such a sequined gown for a weekend getaway?  Suddenly I found myself thinking warm thoughts about the humble sweats and warm-up suits warn by the Asilomar guests. 

The next page shows the elegant woman reclining on a bench overlooking a scenic vista, staring out into the distance while her man caresses her lovingly; the caption reads, “You’ve never been so happy together....”  I was beginning to get ill.  Then I turned to a picture of a tastefully dressed man gazing thoughtfully at his wife, she clad only in a fluffy white bathrobe, with the caption, “It’s been a wonderful getaway, and tonight you’re really going to spoil him....”

It dawned on me that perhaps there are really only a couple of possible ways that tourist bureaus are likely to represent such a choice vacation spot.  They can celebrate the wealth and prestige itself, reminding the tourists how élite they are, like the fashion section of the guidebook did.  Or, they can encourage visitors to appreciate the wonderful local amenities, but only while reminding them that the physical trappings are incidental and secondary to  the resort’s rich tradition and spirit of community.  Given the alternatives, I guess I appreciate the effort made by the Asilomar folks, even their message didn’t ring entirely true.  I wish the region could just exist, without anybody trying to convey to me its “essence of place.”

 dana albert blog