When I was a kid, back in simpler days, Christmas gift giving was a simple procedure based on a simple question: “Whaddayawant?”

My parents would communicate this basic request, and we would respond with a list of potential items, many of them culled from the Sears & Roebuck Toy Catalog, which may have been the most awesome publication ever.

Some of the things we asked for were notably not in the Sears catalog; my brother Patrick asked for things like historical atlases and (and I assure you: I am NOT making this up) a Prussian helmet.

But Christmas always involved a list, first to Santa, and then to his stand-ins. The understanding was explicit: we weren’t to expect to get everything on the list, but a good faith effort would be made within the usual time and budgetary constraints.

I can see why the ‘rents did this. Five kids is a lot of people to have to dream up something wonderful for without any idea of what said kids have been hoping and dreaming for. So a list was provided, shopping was made easier, the economy was greased, and everyone went to bed happy on December 24th. (We’ll explain that one later this season.)

Fast forward a generation, and I’m asking my own kids for a list, too. An Amazon Wish List, which is the most civilized creation ever invented. It’s really easy: kid develops a covetous nature in his/her heart; kid records said covetousness within the confines of the Amazon environment; harried mom reviews list, throws out the high- and the low-priced items (it’s just like figure skating scoring) and Santa Claus the UPS man delivers the goods.

There’s no chance of duplicate gifts if all participants follow the rules, as the list updates or at least records your activity as you shop. The would-be recipient indicates size and color preferences. Gift giver isn’t blowing hard-earned money on a guess about what would be appreciated. Recipient isn’t secretly sad.

And everyone goes to bed happy on December 24th.

So I was mystified today when the Mac & Gaydos show on KTAR covered the idea of Christmas gift registries (I’m guessing Amazon qualifies as one) and dissed them as ‘impersonal.’

To me, ‘impersonal’ is when someone who feels like they should buy me a gift stands randomly in a department store and does the shopping equivalent of ‘pin the tail on the ugly sweater’ and runs out feeling relieved, leaving me opening a present with delighted expectation only to feel ‘meh.’ Which is a First World problem, to be sure, but if you’re wanting to avoid ‘impersonal,’ one must first avoid ‘meh.’

So yes: my kids have given me lists of things they would like, should I be in a gift giving mood this holiday season. It’s a long-standing tradition, that, just like our other long-standing tradition:

Making those gifts impossible to find.

(I would be remiss if I didn’t mention that you can now donate to your favorite charity through Amazon while you shop. Check it out!)

© E. Stocking Evans 2013