Door County Style

Old Geezer Goes Christmas Shopping

Posted on 03. Dec, 2008 by Tom Bridenhagen in Literature

The last time we saw Old Geezer, he was sound asleep, next to a stump, as the doe he’d been waiting for all day pranced daintily by him, unnoticed. He’d gotten up with the chickens and had spent all day in the woods, “…seeing nothing but bucks.” But this was Wisconsin’s Earn A Buck deer hunting season, and he’d found that indeed ’tis true: “There’s really no justice, a deer hunter knows. When you’re hunting for bucks, you only see does. When you’re hunting for does (and this really sucks) instead of seeing does you only see bucks.”

Old Geezer Goes Christmas Shopping
by Tom Bridenhagen

Geezer woke with a sneezing. The sun it had set.

His feet they were freezing. “Ain’t seen no deer yet.

“Guess winter’s a comin’; guess I’ll just head home.

This Earn A Buck’s bummin’. I’d rather just roam …

“When weather is warm, and trees they are buddin’

and birds are a charm.” But all of a sudden …!!!

It dawned on him then,

that Christmas was coming. In days, only 10!

He’d not done his shopping! No presents yet gotten.

He’d better get chopping. He really felt rotten.

“Tomorrow for sure I’ll shop with a reason,

with heart clean and pure. For this Christmas season.”

So …

” ‘Twas the night before shopping and while he’s abed,

no visions of sugar plums danced in his head.

He tossed and he turned as nightmares came flying,

of daddies and mommies and little kids crying.

Of loudspeakers blaring out songs of good cheer,

while tempers were flaring. You could barely hear!

He woke with a start; his heart it just sank,

when he saw his shop list… the list it was blank.

But off to McDs/ for cold egg Mcmuffin,

his mind in a freeze. His will had to toughen.

“I can do this really,” he said to himself.

“But not touchy or feely. I’m not Santa’s elf.”

He hopped in his van, drove off to the freeway.

Just hoping his wifey would give him some leeway…

To buy her some presents. Not simple or plain,

but fluffy and furry (a male shopper’s pain!).

To Shopko, to Walmart, to Pennys, to Kohls.

To Target, to K-Mart, then Dunkin for rolls.

In the mall parking lot there ‘rose such a crash.

He slammed on his brakes; his head bumped the dash.

Two cars mooshed together, but he said with some glee,

“I’m glad it was them. It could have been me!”

By the door of the store, two teenage girls giggled.

While ringing their bells, their bodies they wiggled.

They flirted and smiled, all cutesy and charmy.

For the bells they were ringing, were Salvation Army.

Into the store, Old Geezer did scurry,

just hoping he’d finish this chore in a hurry!

“Should I git’r some perfume, a blouse and some flowers?”

But shopping for those could take hours and hours.

And then in a twinkling, he knew in a flash,

to ‘lectronics he’d go, in one desperate dash.

And buy her a camera, or a video, you see.

Of Regis and Kelly (or is it Kathy Lee?)

Or Oprah or Phil or one of the others,

that women just love, especially mothers.

40 TVs did play, loudspeakers did shout.

“Merry Christmas to all…what this is about…

Just spend and spend more, more presents do buy.

Because if you don’t, our sales they will die.”

Two women argued, their babies were crying.

Their shop carts collided; their fists nearly flying.

“This is just madness,” Old Geezer was thinking.

“Christmas is spirit? My spirit it’s sinking!

“I must get right out. I just can’t stay.

My toe nails will thicken. My hair has turned grey!”

With stomach in knots and sweat on his brow.

“I have to get out. I have to leave NOW!

“I know what I’ll do, before I go bonkers.

I’ll git’r a gift card, a gift card from …. Younkers.”

Away to his van he limped in a flash,

left that ol’ park lot, left in a dash.

And back on the freeway, a sigh of relief.

“There’s no Chrismas spirit; there’s nothing but grief!”

He spoke not a word. Raced straight up the highway,

to Younkers in Manty. “I will do this my way.”

Then laying a finger, long side of his nose.

And giving a nod, up a nostril it rose.

Late afternoon found him, back out in the wood.

Where life is so peaceful. Where life is so good.

No gun at his side. No rope for to drag.

No reason to rush. No reason to brag.

And, once again…

Next to that stump, as twilight came creeping,

a snore it resounded. Old Geezer was sleeping.

Tom Bridenhagen was born and raised in Sturgeon Bay and now resides in Manitowoc with Bonnie, his wife of more than 40 years. They have four grown children and eight grandchildren, all Wisconsin residents. He is a retired high school teacher who still enjoys teaching on a weekly basis at Manitowoc’s Senior Center. He was also a sportswriter and remains an avid outdoorsman, fishing, hunting, snowshoeing, XC-skiing and hiking enthusiast – along with his latest interest, geocaching. Tom has written two unpublished books and writes numerous articles, poems and short stories, many of which we hope to present here on a regular basis.

Tags: Christmas in Door County, Tom Bridenhagen