Editor’s note: Clarence Page is on vacation this week, and will return Dec. 23. ADVERTISING Editor’s note: Clarence Page is on vacation this week, and will return Dec. 23. At this point, we all know the true meaning of Christmas.
Editor’s note: Clarence Page is on vacation this week, and will return Dec. 23.
At this point, we all know the true meaning of Christmas.
That kid from “Peanuts” — the one with the blanket — gives us a lecture every year when we watch “A Charlie Brown Christmas.” And we see the Grinch’s preposterous decision to not make off with an entire town’s gifts — a move that likely would’ve netted him millions in today’s Who dollars — and are reminded that maybe Christmas doesn’t come from a store.
But let’s set aside all the “nice” and “heartwarming” and “religiously significant” elements of the holiday for a moment and focus on the 500-pound snowman in the room: We adults rarely get what we actually want.
We might ask for a lovely necklace or a cool electronic gadget, and we might even receive the gift we request. But it’s never really what we want.
It can’t be. Because the things we desire most, deep down, just don’t exist.
I’m talking about the self-serving devices we daydream about, ones that would eradicate life’s day-to-day headaches and bring us true joy.
With that in mind, I give you my first List of Top Holiday Gifts That Don’t Exist But Should:
—The Fecalnator 5000 Backyard Canine Waste Drone. Using the same drone technology employed by our military, this remote-control device allows you to clean up dog poop from the comfort of your sofa. Never again will you hoist a shovel or trudge into the backyard with a fistful of plastic grocery bags. The Fecalnator 5000 hovers over the yard, zeroes in on its target and, with deadly accuracy, vaporizes dog messes with miniature Hellfire missiles. (Extra missiles sold separately.) The drone also comes with a deterrent setting that prompts it to vaporize any unauthorized dogs, rabbits or teenagers who try to use your lawn as a bathroom.
—The Hole-Fix-It 2500 Backyard Missile-Crater Repair Bulldozer. A perfect, and fairly necessary, companion to the Fecalnator 5000.
—The “Gee, Honey, That’s SO Interesting!” Earpiece. It’s like a hearing aid — for your sanity. This tiny device can be discreetly slipped into your ear any time your child starts telling you about something incredibly boring. Like a new video game. Or a disagreement with a sibling. Or how his or her day went. Just pop the earpiece in, and it will play your favorite music, podcast or audiobook while giving you occasional politeness prompts like: “Nod your head”; “Say, ‘Really? That’s SO interesting’” and “I think he’s done talking, you can take me out now.” Being a good parent means listening to your children. But who wants to do that? With the “Gee, Honey, That’s SO Interesting!” Earpiece, you won’t have to. (Can be upgraded for use with spouses for an additional $99.99.)
—The Step-Aside Juice Cleanse Detector App. This app monitors your social networks and identifies any friend or family member who might be in the midst of a faddish juice cleanse. (The app has a 100 percent accuracy rating, because no person has ever done a juice cleanse without bringing it up on social media.) If you come within speaking distance of any “cleansers,” your phone rings, allowing you time to avoid that person before he or she starts telling you how the juice cleanse is going. If that first line of defense fails, just shake your phone and the app calls police to your location. It can also be tailored to identify: guys who brew their own beer and have recently finished a batch they might want to tell you about; people who’ve recently become vegans; and people in your networks with a high propensity for sharing poetry they’ve written.
—The Serenity Flatumat. Meant to be a relaxing experience, a quiet yoga class can become a real stress fest if you start feeling gassy. But now you can turn that downward-facing-dog frown upside down with this high-tech noise-emitting mat. If you’re about to break wind midmeditation, just give the Serenity Flatumat a squeeze and its patented touch-foam technology triggers a long “ommmmmm” of white noise that can cloak a butt burp of up to 80 decibels. Let your chakras rest easy knowing the question of “who dealt it?” in the 6 p.m. hot yoga class will forever remain a mystical mystery.
—The Personal Space Taser. People — there are just too many of them, right? They crowd you in line at the grocery store and bump into you on the train. Sometimes it makes you want to unleash your Fecalnator 5000 drone on them. But what if there were an easier, less deadly way to get some breathing room?
There is, and it’s called the Personal Space Taser, or PST. With the look of a fashionable coat, the PST is equipped with sensitive proximity sensors. If someone enters your predetermined Me Zone, that person gets a friendly but powerful zap that says, “Back off, bub, or I will literally electrocute you.” (Available in a wide array of colors and patterns, batteries not included.)
Sensible as these gifts may sound, they remain sadly nonexistent. Maybe we need to dream harder. Maybe Santa or the Grinch or that Peanuts kid can find a way to make them real.
Granted, a poop-zapping drone and a kid-ignoring earpiece don’t tie in too well with the true meaning of Christmas. But how nice would it be, for once in our adult lives, to get something we actually want.
Rex Huppke is a columnist for the Chicago Tribune and a noted hypocrisy enthusiast. You can email him at rhuppke@tribune.com or follow him on Twitter at RexHuppke.
