Give the Gift of Chomp.

me and my little friend without eyes

Everyone wants my money. Toys ‘R Us peppers me with hourly pre-Christmas emails. I actually feel sorry for J. Crew when I consider all of the money that they will not be getting from me before the end of the year. The poor things really seem to have no idea.

And those poor bastards over at Land’s End have their fingers crossed that I will buy some warm hats from them in the next ten days. I just know it.

It’s not just stores. Even the non-profits want cash. Carnegie Hall has me on speed dial, and frankly, I am a terrible prospect for them.

My husband works for a radio station, and all day long in the background, his colleagues are asking me to include them in my year-end giving plan. I recognize this as a personalized, if veiled, threat to the financial security of my family. Ie, perhaps Ira Glass is going to come out and slash my tires or at least make it impossible to pay my mortgage unless we grease the NPR palm. Isn’t the thrice-yearly pledge drive we participate in, in addition to the time we tithe to you, enough?

Tonight the cat rescue place from the neighborhood sent over a note trying tried to explain to me that I am not doing enough to support the pathetic-cat community. They say that if I donate at the lowest level, which is $100, they will mention me in their newsletter as a “Manx” giver. What sort of enticement is that? If I am not mistaken, a manx is a cat lacking a tail. Whereas I am a person who taken in cats with no eyes, which, I’m sure you will agree, is a far more dramatic thing to not have. I have spent more on rehabilitation, deworming, shots, spaying, and medical boarding each year dealing with the feral problem in my neighborhood than I spend on a year’s worth of car insurance to park on the street in Flatbush, Brooklyn.  So “manx,” my ass. With no further effort on my part, I would expect to show up in the newsletter at the “Eyeless and Hypothermic Runt” level.

In other news, my blood relatives also appear to want presents.

This holiday season, everything is adding up. I’m sure it’s the same for you.

But you know what is free? To get and to give?

Church Avenue Chomp.

So this year, for your year-end giving plan, I urge you to keep all of your money, and opt out of the social pressure to give gifts that will cost you anything. Instead, give the gift of this blog to someone else who you think would like it.

People who you give my blog to will get recipes, personal essays, and rants and accolades from a part of Brooklyn that is becoming very hip. They will know when I am tired because my child is getting molars (that’s a spoiler for the next few months!) as well as be privy to a picture of a very fetching giraffe, some snow that actually moves around, and more.

So, screw presents. In addition to being free, urls take up less space on the mantel. Also, they are greener.

Readership has grown considerably in the last few months and for that, I’d like to thank all of you who have tweeted, stumbled, shared on Facebook, or simply spread the word.

Believe me when I say that if I publish a book, then I will be urging you to spend, spend, spend on your friends, neighbors, bosses, underlings, and people you haven’t yet met. However, we are not there yet. So relax! And implement my idea for this year, please.

Happy Chompidays to you!