Secret Santa – I Think We’re Doing it Wrong

I’m having trouble getting into the holiday spirit this year.  Not only because the world is scheduled to end on December 21st, but also because I worry that my family has not truly embraced the holiday spirit.  As the family has grown, we have seamlessly audibled to a system that involves only the distribution of presents through a secret Santa system.

As I understand it, a secret Santa system generally operates as follows:  All participating members enter their names into a hat.  Preferably one like this:

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A jolly old family member walks the hat around until each participant has an assignment for present purchasing.  You’re supposed to look at your assignment and quietly nod to yourself in approval as you imagine all of the epic presents you can buy for your beloved family member.  Then the jolly old family member announces the spending threshold and you go back through those mental images and recalibrate:

iPad, No:

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iPad charger, yes:

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Then, you spend the next few weeks searching for any hints about what your assignee may want this holiday season.  You look at facebook, twitter, amazon.com, and maybe even ask a close friend.  Then, out of nowhere, you figure it out!  It’s a beautiful thing, so you run to the internet to buy that perfect gift.  But when you get to the internet, you remember that you wanted to check your email, and see if Youkilis signed with the Yankees yet, or see if anything funny happened to someone’s cat.  8 hours later, you go to sleep in a bleary eyed cat high.  The next day, you remember that you are past the deadline to send your secret santa gift, realize you complete forgot your revelation from the day before, so you buy an amex gift card and ship it off in the mail.

As I understand the world, this is how a secret Santa is supposed to work.  But my family is different.

We start out the same.  We use paper and cut it into squares.  We put them into a hat.  Ours looks like this:

Image(psst – it’s a yamulke)

Then my Uncle walks around with the hat.  You pick your assignment and read it aloud to the whole family.  One of my aunts yells, “Wait, didn’t you have him last year?  you can’t have the same person again.”  So you put the name back into the hat.  Then you pick again and read the new name aloud.  It’s your wife, so that sends the entire day in a tailspin.  We spend the next 25 minutes debating how we can make it work like it has in the past.  Finally someone figures it out.  Everything goes perfectly and then the hat comes around to you.  You’re the last one in the family and you pick the last slip of paper.  You read it aloud and it’s your name.  You ruin Christmas.  But it’s okay, because we haven’t even realized that we’re Jewish and Hannukah already happened because we’re too busy debating whether Homeland is all the way in the shitter or only part of the way in the shitter.

So now that the “picking” part is ruined, my uncle goes into the office and manually assigns each person his or her secret santa.  Then he reads the list to the whole family.  I get the same person every year.  In other words, it’s not that secret.  But hey, at least we get to be imaginative with the gift buying.

Except for that after we get the assignment, it becomes your responsibility to inform your gift giver exactly what you would like for the holiday season, then you get it.  Yet somehow, and this is the amazing part about family, we all still manage to complain about our gifts.  And I’m not pointing fingers, because I can complain with the best of ’em.  In fact, I’m surprised my name even goes into the hat.  Poor little old me never gets a good present.   Just this year, I asked for a beautiful sweater from J Crew and I got this:

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Happy holidays everyone!

Present me v. Future me: What I learned from the Willpower Instinct

If you’ve been following my blog, you might me remember my struggles with ice cream, or the time I quit training for the NYC Marathon, or the many months when I didn’t post at all [null link].  Maybe you’re noticing a pattern here.  I certainly did:  I have no willpower.

So I set out to remedy that by reading Kelly McGonigal‘s book The Willpower Instinct:  How Self-Control Works, Why it Matters, and What You Can Do To Get More of It.

Okay, you caught me.  I’m lying a little bit.  I didn’t actually read it.  Not the whole thing anyway.  But!  I did listen to the Audiobook while commuting.  Most of it at least.  And sometimes I would think about how I could do the exercises to try and get better about things.  But then I would remember my defensive driving training and return my eyes to the road, focusing on any immediate emergencies 2 seconds ahead or scanning for potential danger up to 12 seconds ahead.

At the very least, just by listening to the book, I now can’t help but think about some of the broader concepts that McGonigal discusses.  (Note – if you’re going to listen to the audio book, you’re in for a rude awakening if you expect the narration to be in the author’s voice.  And judging by her picture, she has a hot voice.  The narrator is a monotone man who probably sent a dozen other people to defensive driving class through no fault of their own.)

One concept I learned about was the struggle between my current self and my future self. From what I gathered, my current self is lazy, selfish, shortsighted, irrational, conniving, lazy, calculating, and optimistic.  While my future self is an amazing person, but I never get to meet him.  Here’s an example of a conversation I have with my current self all the time:

Rob1 (current self):  Man, I haven’t been to the gym in a week.  I am harnessing my pants together with an airplane seatbelt extender.  I have ice cream drippings solidifying in the folds of my chin.  Maybe I should go to the gym today.

Rob2 (also current self):  Good idea.  But didn’t you want to watch the new episode of Two Broke Girls?

Rob1:  No, not really.  I should go to the gym.

Rob2:  Dude.  Two Broke Girls!

Rob1:  Hm, that does sound good.

Rob2:  We can just go to the gym tomorrow.

Rob1:  True.

Rob2:  And let’s get some pizza and more ice cream because we’re going to start eating healthy tomorrow too.

Rob1:  Oh yeah, I did say I was going to do that when I was eating lunch at Arby’s.

Rob2:  Totally.  We’re going to be awesome tomorrow.

Rob3 (Future Rob):  Whoa.  I really committed to a lot tomorrow.

Rob1&2:  Yeah, but you’re so amazing.   We love you.

I’m not sure if reading that book will change the way I think about these conversations, but it’s at least made me aware that I totally justify things by thinking I’ll get better about them tomorrow.  And not only that, but McGonigal uses things like sciences and experiments to back up her findings.  I’m a democrat, so I really dig that kind of hogwash.

I’m not saying that this book has all the answers, but if you’ve been keeping track, you have probably noticed the dramatic increase in volume to this blog (and the distracting facebook clog I have caused on your timeline).  So you’re welcome and I’m sorry.

For the visual learners – this is present me:

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And this is future me:

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Now, about that ice cream….

The 50-50 Raffle is a Scam

I love charity as much as the next guy.  I also love gambling as much as the next guy.  Especially when the next guy is Jimmy the Greek or Pete Rose.  So I could hardly contain my excitement when I was invited to an annual charity golf event with loads of competition and raffles for valuable prizes.  

After paying my exorbitant entry fee, which went towards charity, I also shelled out a decent amount of additional cash for raffle tickets, which also went towards charity.*  The most exciting raffle, of course, is the 50-50, which promises riches to one lucky winner.  If you’re not familiar with the 50-50 raffle, the two numbers (50 and 50) represent the amount of the pot (50%) that will be allocated to the house (the charity) and to the raffle winner (never me).   Also, if you’re not familiar with the 50-50, you should probably attend an event at some point in your life.  Basically any event.

*”Decent amount” actually means the same thing as “exorbitant,” but I have never been fully forthcoming to my family about the excessive amount I spend on raffle tickets and charity golf events each year.

I realize that what I am about to say will have me shunned from society and labeled a grinch.  But as a blogger, my sole duty is to complain about everything and propose no solutions.  By now, you’re surely asking yourself, “what can anyone have against the 50-50 raffle?  It’s a perfect system in which a respectable charity reaps half the pot and a lucky winner walks away with the other half.  Who can hate that?”  Oh, hi.  Have we met?

The only issue I have is that the raffle is a complete scam.  When the lucky ticket is drawn and the winner runs up to the podium to collect his wad of cash, a small subset in the room starts to murmur.  If the winner starts to walk back to his seat, you may even hear some boos.  On more than one occasion, the charitable crowd will slowly start to chant:  “Give it back.  Give it back.  GIVE IT BACK!”  Elevating in volume until the lucky winner has been gently prodded, i.e., forced, to donate back his winnings.  

That’s right.  The charity, which has already taken almost all of my discretionary income in the form of entry fees and raffle tickets, and has claimed half of the pot just for hosting the raffle, now demands the other half of the pot for itself as well.  The 50-50 raffle has become a 100-0 raffle where the house gets everything and one lucky winner gets nothing.  Actually, the winner gets worse than nothing.  The winner gets to hold a satchel of money in his hands for 45 seconds while being taunted by a crowd of people.  What a prize!  

Charities should be fully forthcoming with this information before the event begins.  “Hello, sir.  We are hosting a raffle.  You can buy 1 ticket for $5, 10 tickets for $10, or 1000 tickets for $50.  The prize is that we get to keep everything.  How many should I put you down for?”

So, in order to raise money for myself, I will be hosting my own raffle.  Don’t worry.  I’ll be fully upfront with the details.  It’s much better than a 50-50 because it’s a 10-90.  I’ll keep 10% and the winner gets 90% of the pot.  90%!  Unheard of, right? In fact, screw it.  I’m going to double your prize pool from my own savings.  It’s now the first annual 10-180 raffle! 

Please note, all societal pressures still apply. 

The New Facebook

I know a lot of people are freaking about the new Facebook Timeline feature.  Count me among them.  But my freakout is more personal.  I’m terrified that the world is going to learn everything about me going back to my birth.  As my golf coach used to say, “the best defense is a good offense.”  So, before you get to see my profile, I thought I’d get out ahead of the curve and tell you some things that you’ll find out soon enough:

  • I was on the golf team.  It was the coolest thing I did in high school.
  • When I was a baby, I had 33 chins. 
  • I dropped those chins in  high school.  Mostly because my sophomore year I only ate Snapple.
  • I once posted a status update that read: “Wow, this new Emeril sitcom is great.  Everyone should watch it!  BAM!”
  • The chins returned in college.  
  • I drove a blue jetta that everyone thought was purple:
  • (not my actual ride)
  • That with all of the changes, the thing I am most worried about is that people will see how disgusting some of my Seamless orders are.
  • In 10th grade, I accidentally locked myself in my room and was rescued by a team of firefighters.  During the rescue, my biggest concern was whether I would be on time to marching band practice.

One Last Thought on Entourage

I don’t have a brother, or many friends, so I may be off base here.  But if I was Drama, and had dedicated my entire life to my baby bro (cooked for him, protected him, cared for him, poured out all the booze when he came home from rehab), I would be livid that he chose E as his best man. 

Luckily tonight starts the new season of Survivor, where I don’t have to worry about such complicated issues.