One of my favorite stories of the holiday season, besides "It's a Wonderful Life" (of course), is that of Ebenezer Scrooge and Tiny Tim and the ghosts - oh, yes, the ghosts - of Christmas Past. Every year the Christmas season starts earlier and earlier and in September I saw a display with an upside-down Christmas tree. I think the clerk noticed me, as I was practically standing on my head to figure out this oddity. Yes, I was reassured, people do buy them.

It got me thinking about all the quirks and bizarre offerings this season now boasts. I must say, in deference to our society, we have managed to take a simple, extraordinary event and transform it into the largest mass marketing promotion in the history of humankind. Only in America can we capitalize on every excuse for a holiday and a simple carpenter who changed the world for millions.

I grew up with real Christmas trees because when I was a kid the only artificial trees were the aluminum kind and they were a bit too funky for my traditional parents. We did have a Christmas "bush" one year when the tree Dad bought was much too tall for our nine-foot ceiling. Like any tool-wielding man would do, he cut the trunk off. When it still knocked against the ceiling, he cut off the top, too. It was ugly, but it worked.

Speaking of trees, my friend Ed shared his drunken Santa story with me and I'm passing it on to you. Many years ago, he was dating his high school sweetheart Linda, whose father frequently tipped one too many. On Christmas Eve, Linda's dad came home in his makeshift Santa suit three sheets to the wind. He took one look at the tree (probably saw more than one), reached up to straighten an ornament, lost his balance and the tree, complete with lights and ornaments, fell on top of him. Ed and Linda stood there in amazement as the tree shook. Slowly Santa emerged from underneath like the Phoenix bird rising from the ashes. He pushed up the tree before him as he steadied himself. Lights and ornaments had flown everywhere and there was water all over the floor. Dear dad managed to set it back up, gave it a shake, stand back and say, "It sure looks good to me." And according to Ed, despite an inebriated Santa and a crooked tree, Christmas did indeed survive that year.

"Like any tool-wielding man would do, he cut the trunk off. When it still knocked against the ceiling, he cut off the top, too. It was UGLY, but it worked."

All of us have a favorite "gift" story, from the unexpected ribbon-wrapped car, tickets for that long awaited "dream" vacation to mundane doorstops disguised as fruitcakes. One of my favorites is the hair dryer I received from a man I was dating. Men should know appliances just don't cut it for Christmas (unless it's a state-of-the-art Kitchen Aide mixer or some exotic cappuccino/espresso maker). But a hair dryer? I don't think so!

I love devouring the Neiman Marcus Christmas catalog every year. It has such exotic gifts and I have to wonder, does anyone really order his-and-hers portraits done in a double helping of chocolate syrup for $110,000; a $50,000 tree tent, or perhaps their own two-person submarine that dives to 1,000 feet for a cool $1.4 million? I have been secretly lusting after the signature 7.2 carat diamond phone for $73,000. That sure beats a hair dryer!

I'm hoping someone I know will actually get the Classical Superstars Fantasy Concert and invite me as one of their 499 closest friends to a private holiday concert by the world-famous Kirov Orchestra in their hometown hosted by, hold onto your party hats, Regis Philbin himself! This is an affair that is destined to outlast the holidays because each guest receives a film of the concert as an after-party favor. They'll even throw in the concert grand piano for the hefty price of $1,590,000.
Now, that's a lot of turkeys for Tiny Tim and his family and I've got to believe old Ebenezer would turn over in his grave at the sheer ludicrousness of such expenditures.

I'm old fashioned, dear readers. I guess it comes with approaching the age of reason. I would sure like to see more "Christ" in Christmas, and before you get politically correct on me, I'd hope that there's more "Kwan" in Kwanza and "Chan" in Chanukah for my other friends, too.

It comes down to more families coming together to exchange loving kindness, not lavish gifts; less fantasy and more reality; more cookies and less fruitcakes and please remember, no more hair dryers!