I am a piranha, quick and effective. I am pulling Nigel in and out of the little Civic, dashing from store to store, checking items off my Christmas list, holding it all together, actually kind of getting an enjoyable rush out of buying gifts. Then I notice a sign that states simply, "Give Joy", and at first I think it says, "buy joy" which makes more sense plastered on the front door of Best Buy, until I look again and sure enough, it encourages me to "give joy." I've just bought a gift card there, scuttling in and out since the store kind of scares me with it's weird, dim lighting and the suppressed but overstimulated tension that lays heavily between the long isles of screaming hd dvd covers and overpriced(?) and undersized electronics.
so I have to wonder about this "giving joy" thing, of course I'm giving joy, aren't I? with buying the gift card, with making the effort to drag a child around, wait in line with grumpy customers and making small chat with the brisk sales people who like to pretend they are checking my id. I'm even signing my name on a computerized screen without ink. I'm probably saving an ink tree which more than makes up for the extra electricity it's taking to backlight that little box that is so hard to read, to understand.
I decide that the most joy I'm actually giving comes from dragging N, 6 months, around to all the stores. The elderly and the very young are enthralled with his red-cheeked face nestled down in his car seat. an older man squats down in the middle of Sears and has a one-sided conversation. "Aren't you going to talk to me today?" he asks? a 3 yr.-old named Calvin runs over to him in Starbuck's, looks up at me and yells, "what is it?" he follows N and me around, over to the cream station, his mom tries desperately to get him to say "goodbye" but instead he gives a maniacal grin.
