Copious Catalogs

I’m nervous. It’s not even turkey time and I have over thirty holiday gift catalogs stacked on my table. These things reproduce faster than fruit flies. Last week my mailbox was stuffed so tight I had to use a crowbar to extract a single item. Yesterday I lined it with Vaseline so I can slide those suckers out in one motion.

I felt sorry for my mailman until he told me he gets a group discount on hernia surgery from hauling all those catalogs for two months.

What I can’t figure out is why I get so many. I haven’t ordered something from a catalog since Sears quit mailing them to your home.

More puzzling …why am I compelled to look through each one?  Must be the neighbor’s- house-for-sale-look-ee-loo factor. You know you’re not gonna buy it but can’t resist looking to see if they have something in there better than you do.

Some of the catalogs I get are really weird. Like the one that has a Dungeons & Dragons chess set made from something that resembles bone fragments, chiseled stone gargoyle book ends and toothpick holders disguised as swords.

I once used a catalog to buy a pocket knife for my hubby, Garth. Big mistake.  Now I’m on the mailing list for catalogs like Moose Hunter Outfitters and Fisherman’s Fatigues. However, I did think the rubber one-piece jumpsuit and wader boots combo was kind of kinky.

Catalog prices are outrageous, too. Does anyone really need a fruit basket of six hard oranges and a dozen figs for $85.00 plus shipping? And what about the catalogs selling resort wear clothing? Do they really think I’d spend $72.00 for a polyester muumuu when I can buy two for $9.95 from any newspapers’ insert ads? Get real.

I think these companies need to save a forest and switch to internet-only catalogs. Although, I’ll be the first to admit, squinting at a computer screen for seven hours a day trying to Christmas shop is not my idea of a good time.

Truth be told, there’s nothing quite like thumbing through reams of catalogs, feeling sheets of thick paper ripple between my fingers, staring at glossy colored pictures of cashmere sweaters, velvet dresses and Victoria’s real secrets, to get the ole shopping juices flowing.

So go ahead, make my day. Sign me up for all those catalogs.  When the holiday hoopla is over, they make great bird cage liners.