gift of the magi

I reread O Henry’s short story yesterday and I thought it summed up the Christmas spirit very well for the time it was written, but I felt the story was somewhat dated so I thought I should rewrite it better to meld into a contemporary time frame. The characters in the original story were Della and Jim. I figured if I left the names the same that many of you would assume the male character was based on me, so I have changed the names to more contemporary ones. I figured since I changed one, I’d better change the other. You may note that I have even spelled the name of the male character correctly, unlike someone who shall go nameless. I'm not one to drop celebrity names to be popular, but let’s not hash that out now. So, here goes.



Five thousand, four hundred and ninety-five dollars and thirty-one cents. Hazel scrolled down through the transactions of the on-line bank statement on her computer screen to make sure all the checks and debit card transactions had cleared; then scrolled back to the top of the page to review the on hand balance. Five thousand, four hundred and ninety-five dollars and thirty-one cents. At one time it would have sounded like a lot of money to her. But this was two days before Christmas, 2004, the eve of a second Bush term, and for what she needed, five thousand dollars was squat.

She walked from the second bedroom, the room that she and her husband Phineas used as a home office, and to the living room of their modest house, where she reclined on the couch. She covered her eyes with one hand as if to avoid the afternoon light coming in through the front window. She made a small whimpering sound that turned into a sob and finally burst forth into uncontrollable tears, something she had not heard herself do since she was a small child. And the tears kept coming as water from a well as deep as the history of all mankind.

The need for money and the reason for the tears were for a gift for Phineas for Christmas. It had to be the perfect gift, and Hazel knew the gift and she could see its perfection in her mind’s eye as clearly as she could see the lights twinkling on the Christmas tree by the window. The one thing upon which Phineas based his proof of existence-- yes, even his manhood-- was his ability to provide for his young wife. That meant a home, food and warmth; a car, health insurance and a retirement plan, all of which he had provided in years past. But this year-- the fourth of a Bush economic debacle-- his employer had decided to reduce expenses by canceling their employees’ health insurance and retirement plans. As a result, Phineas had lost the primary reason for his being and was no longer the joy to be with he had been when Hazel enthusiastically agreed to marry him. The loss of his self-esteem had also resulted in his inability to perform, man-wise, and the viagra so sorely needed was beyond their abilities without a prescription plan.

You may ask, dear reader, why Phineas didn’t march right into the office of Mr. Scrooge, show the old bastard the tall man, and walk out the building leaving the firm of Scrooge and Marley forever for a better position. Well, dear reader, Phineas didn’t work for Scrooge and Marley. That is an entirely different story, with a lot of spooks and stuff, perhaps to be explored later this season. Phineas worked for a publicly traded company whose executives, rather than do the difficult work of improving efficiency and cutting costs by intelligent managerial methods, took the easy way out by sodomizing their employees whom they knew could not leave the company for other jobs in the tight job market that so hideously marked the times.

These executives so closely resembled the elected officials of the time that if one put them together with criminals and thugs, the only way one could distinguish who was who is that the executives and politicians would have all of the stolen goods at the end of the day. If one filled the ballroom of a grand hotel with executives and politicians and added some Arab terrorists whom had been shaved clean and dressed in suits, the only way to determine the identity of the only man in the room worth the air he breathed would be by the silver tray of drinks in his right hand.

Hazel had suggested to Phineas, when he informed her of the cutbacks that perhaps he should threaten to resign and find another job, with benefits to which Phineas had answered:

“There are just no good jobs out there, and those jobs there are don't pay anything. In this day and age there is always someone who will work for less money than you.”

Their government reported to them unemployment figures that were historically low and held to their story that the economy was booming and there was a high-paying job for everyone. Those data flew in the face of what Phineas and Hazel saw around them in their daily lives. So many of their friends were unemployed or underemployed and those who were working were terrified that their own jobs would be exported to the vast foreign masses who would work for pennies a day.

So with two days before Christmas and no present, Hazel knew she must do something. She turned on the television and was changing channels with the remote control when, like the star that two-thousand years ago led the Magi from the East to the birthplace of the Christ child, a beam of light from the television led her on her journey to save her family and Christmas. It was a television commercial for the Second Mortgage store: the place where your financial dreams come true.

She brushed her hair, fixed her face and hopped into the car. To the mall, she reasoned, and the Second Mortgage store or bust. When she walked into the Second Mortgage store she saw a man sitting behind the counter.

“Do you make second mortgages?” she asked.

“Sure do,” he replied.

She filled out the application; he ran the information through the computer and she was accepted. She filled out the rest of the paperwork and then it was across the mall to the Trusted Insurance store, where she hurriedly filled out the paperwork and got the policy arranged. She was told that due to a minor pre-existing condition that the rate for the insurance would be very high. But, she knew that. She had researched the purchase of individual health insurance extensively. She knew that dealing with health insurance companies was tantamount to being dragged into a dark alley, being pushed between a couple of trash dumpsters and raped repeatedly. She just swallowed hard and put the money on the counter. Then she hurried home and wrapped the envelope containing the insurance policy in red and gold Christmas wrap and put a large gold bow on it.


Phineas had just left work for the day. Normally he would have gone out, gotten something for supper, like a cheeseburger and fries or a couple of tacos and then gone back to work for a couple of hours in the evening. Even with the reductions in benefits, his employer had still laid off a fourth of the workforce that fall, so everyone had to do a third more work, which meant long days, evenings and weekends spent at the office for Phineas. But today was the last working day before Christmas and he needed to get something for Hazel for Christmas and there was not enough money for what he wanted. Although Hazel had never spoke about it, he knew she needed to feel secure and he felt that as long as he had money in a retirement plan that she would be taken care of when they were both old. But, now he had no retirement plan and needed one. Where would the money come from for the initial funding? As Phineas walked down the street to where he parked his car, he passed a storefront that had a sign reading “Payday Loans.” Phineas walked through the door and was greeted by a man behind a desk.

“Do you make second mortgages?” he asked.

“You betcha’” said the man behind the desk.

Phineas filled out the paperwork and the man put the information into his computer.

“You guys are mortgaged pretty heavy,” he said, “But everyone is these days. You’re accepted.”

Phineas left the loan office and went across the street to the brokerage where he set up his new retirement plan. The guy at the brokerage gave him a shiny silver envelope with an embossed gold seal with the paperwork inside. Phineas headed to his car and home.


When he arrived home, Phineas gave Hazel a hug and a long kiss and she pressed her body against his.

“Um,” she said, “it feels like everything is alright again.”

“I know that Christmas is the day after tomorrow, but I can’t wait to tell you this,” said Phineas. “I know we said we couldn’t afford to give each other gifts this year, but I started a retirement plan for both of us.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful. I bought a health insurance policy for us.”

“That’s great!”

They hugged again, and then asked almost in unison: “Where did you get the money?”

“Second mortgage.”

“Me, too.”

Phineas gathered together the paperwork for both mortgages, got his calculator and began pressing buttons. He showed the total on the calculator to Hazel.

“We’re in some trouble,” she said.

“We were in trouble before,” said Phineas. “Now we have what we need. I’ll just have to work a few more years into my seventies, that’s all. Maybe I can get a part time job. Minimum wage, but it’ll help us get by. Just as long as the value of our house continues to go up, we'll be solvent.”

“I’ll get a part time job, too. We’ll make it through this. Do you still think I’m pretty?”

“Of course I do. And I always will. Lets put on a couple of burgers.”

The magi were wise men. Back in the day they didn’t run around with AK-47s yelling “Jihad! Jihad!” Instead they brought gifts to the Christ child. They started the tradition of giving gifts at Christmas. They gave Jesus some pretty cool stuff, but the gifts that Hazel and Phineas gave each other were wisest. All of us that give and receive gifts are the wisest of them all.


Well, that’s my story. It’s my Christmas gift to you. You know, however, it’s not as happy as I wanted it to be. I have an idea. Let me add another paragraph to the story to give it a happy ending. Here it is:


The board of directors at the company where Phineas worked gave the executives who eliminated the health care and retirement programs six-figure bonuses for saving the company all that money. They also gave them a ski vacation trip to Colorado over the holidays. They flew the families of the executives by commercial flights several days earlier and then flew the executives there on Christmas Eve in the corporate jet. The jet clipped a power line on takeoff and crashed and all the executives burned up. The pilots survived, unhurt. The executives were big contributors to the President’s campaign and when informed of the tragedy, it really messed up the President’s Christmas.



There, that’s more like it.

We have a saying in Jimbo’s world, and this won’t be the last time you hear me say it. That saying is, MERRY CHRISTMAS!