Contributed by J. W. Nicklaus

John Steinbeck's words prophetically float to mind: Now is the winter of our discontent. 

As of this writing (which certainly won't coincide with your reading), the media are stepping all over themselves to quote economists who are injecting their mantra of the death-of-the-recession to all within earshot. Obviously there are way too many unemployed Americans who don't see eye-to-eye with their diagnosis. 

And here we go into the busiest capitalist orgy of the year—the holiday shopping season, and everything it entails. We’re conditioned . . . no . . . expected, to drop our fiscal wads over gifts for everybody we know. Sometimes, even for people we don't like, say at the office; that's got to be like chewing on sandpaper! Yet with so many out of work, and some even having their unemployment benefits expire, it amazes me even more this year that the retail barons still put on the full-court press of seasonal spending Bacchanalia. As a matter of course, I understand that for many retailers the holiday season is when they make the bulk of their money for the year. But for my money there are a number of things which they have yet to be able to profit upon, simply because they are indeed priceless: 

The snow will still fall where it's cold enough to freeze the angels’ tears. 

Meals will be shared and memories created amidst the bare trees of winter and in close proximity to the warmth of a carefully tended fire inside, the frost on the windowpanes flickering from the glow within the fireplace.

Children will laugh as they play in the snow. 

And all of that comes to us regardless of the economic climate. Except for those of us who don’t live in snow country—we spray white stuff on our trees and eat snow cones instead. It’s the best you can hope for at lower elevations. 

But what if we took a decidedly simpler approach to the holidays, like before the over-indulgence of credit cards? 

What if we still hung our stockings by the chimney with care

And actually spent less than ever we’d dare

It’s not always the gift, rather the thought we find nice

Nurturing the human touch has no monetary price

And when trimming the tree keep it simple but complete

Use stringed popcorn, it’s cheap and good eats

And those holiday cards, sure they’re nice to get

But nowadays we text or send them over the ‘net

Many a consumer can say “Of money, we have little”

At times like these we can’t just meet in the middle

We all want the holidays to feel better, to dispel our worst fears

Above all the clatter we hope to be of good cheer

Perhaps the hard times can restore focus to the season

And remind us that to buy gifts really isn’t its reason

It’s more subtle

More soulful

Even quietly profound

It’s the one time of year we should feel better, all around

Though the weather may be chilly

And our wallets wafer thin

Remember that it’s not what you spend that’s important

It’s what bubbles up from within

Respectfully I suggest a return to simplicity,

The seasons trapping should reflect our plight

And God bless us all, every one of us

Trust in yourselves, not your dollars, America . . . and all will be right

J.W. Nicklaus maintains his own personal space between the soul and soft machine in the arid southwest amongst the snowbirds and the Arizona Diamondbacks. Between writing for his blog (avomnia.wordpress.com) and other side projects, he spends time with his son enjoying the baseball season. Additional information about his debut collection of short stories. The Light, The Dark, and Ember Between, is available at his web site, www.avomnia.com.