NAUGHTY OR NICE?

Living 7,000 miles away from my family means I have to start thinking about Christmas shopping early. Really early. Like now. So my parents and I have been exchanging little wish lists of gift ideas -- much easier on everyone since my parents can't keep up with that "twangy stuff" that I listen to, for example, were they to buy me a CD. And I don't know what books they've read, what crazy lawn ornaments they're craving, etc. So, lists. I received my mom's list today, and, like it does for many gift-giving holidays, it presents a dilemma. Why? Well, here's what was on the music portion of the list for me to choose from:

* A Rod Stewart CD - one of the songbooks
* Sheryl Crow's new album
* Norah Jones "Feels Like Home"
* Trisha Yearwood's new one
* Dolly Parton's new one if it's good

Now look, I know that list isn't so bad, the first selection notwithstanding. And the fact that I'm done. Done. DONE. with Norah Jones and would really like to pretend she and her hype don't exist (that's for another post) notwithstanding. But you have to understand, people, that there's a traumatic history here. I could go into details, but I'll give you just one example that I think will sum up my pain: Not once, but TWICE, I have had to purchase Celine Dion CDs for my mother. Horrors.

I know, I know. I should take a stand, refuse to do it. Like when my dad's list contained an Ann Coulter book and I got him some nice socks instead, not even caring if he was disappointed by his only daughter on Christmas. I could ignore my mom's, um, questionable taste and buy her some Sarah Harmer instead, try to repair her.

But dammit, the woman's stubborn (sooooo glad I didn't inherit any -- not even a drop -- of that), and I know full well she won't be swayed. So I cave in and go with the list. Which, in the Celine Dion instances, required me to drive to some store in a part of town I never have been or plan to go to again, sort of disguise myself as best I can without actually wearing a disguise because that would be a little overdramatic, and make my shameful purchase.

Now, with this thing called the Internet, it's a little easier to save face ... but that presents problems, too! You buy one -- just one! -- goddamned James Patterson novel on Amazon.com for your dear mother, because she has requested it for MOTHER'S DAY, of all things, and Amazon remembers. Forever. So now -- years later! -- when James Patterson cranks out another quality tome, which he does about 17 times a year, I get an e-mail from Amazon saying "Oh hey, we know you toooootally love the big JP, so here's an e-mail about his FABULOUS new book that we know you will looooooove." Eye roll.

So I guess my strategy could be to go with the, um, leastest of the evils I can find on this list. Dolly would certainly be a Hickory Wind-approved choice, but I know my mum (that's for you, Amanda), and I know she'll deem it too twangy and pine for Rod Stewart. I know it. And then ol' Rod will be rolled to the next gift-giving occasion list and I'll have to dodge him once again. Sigh. As Christmas is supposed to be about giving or some such, I guess I must give the gift that will make her happy, not the one that will make me happy. But dammit, I'm going to have to allow myself a little selfishness and maybe make a fake Amazon.com name and e-mail for this purchase, so I don't have to live with years of Rod Stewart offers or the knowledge that I've tainted the Amazon recommendation system for everyone by creating a Son Volt-Sheryl Crow link.

Hey, at least I won't have to buy a disguise.