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At the risk of sounding like Grumpy Old Man, I reflect on the cultural progress of Christmas as I see it this year. I had a conversation with some friends recently, discussing childhood memories of Christmas. We got to the subject of favorite gifts, such as the Rockem’ Sockem’ Robots, or the G.I. Joe Survival Camp with 3’ tower and coiled up snake. Seems like every person had a similar memory of some kind. It made me wonder what this same conversation will be like 25 years from now, when the kids of this generation talk about their Christmas experiences. Will they reminisce on the $100 Best Buy Gift Card and how they were hoping for the $250 denomination? Will their minds return to the morning they opened the $50 from Old Navy, American Eagle, AND Abercrombie & Fitch? Will they recall the hours of delight they had with the $75 grandma sent? What will be their stories? I know times change and that it is not wise to wish for the “good old days,” but there is something about Christmas that leaves me feeling a little flat. I mourn the loss of the joy of giving. My wife and I have this little recurring discussion about gifts. She says giving is about the person receiving the gift, so if they want the gift card, get them the gift card. What’s the problem? I, on the other hand, find little joy in going down to Target and having this dialogue with the clerk: “Let’s see, can you give me that green one, no, wait, she would like the one with candy canes?” “That will be $25, sir. Credit or Debit?” Pretty soon Christmas will all just be direct deposit. Instead of getting a wish list, you’ll get an account number and a PIN. I’ll even be robbed of the joy of deciding what color or design I can get on the card itself.