It's a Very Cyber Christmas

It used to be that the big dig on Christmas was that it had gotten too commercial. It had become all about shopping instead of religious and family-centric. Now, it's gotten one step worse: even the shopping has become utterly impersonal.

Anything and everything on my kids' wish lists can be found on one single website: Amazon. Let's see: Rollerblades? Amazon. Legos? Amazon. Solar-powered model cars and ant farms and fossil excavation sets? Amazon. (I'm not at all surprised to learn that both Amazon and Wal-Mart.com are doing record business this year, together commanding 22% of online holiday retail traffic.)

My sisters and I all have Amazon wish lists for our families, so we don't even need to talk to each other for ideas. It's click and go. I pick something off a list, type in a gift card, check the box for wrapping paper, and buy it with one-click. The whole process takes 30 seconds and I never even have to change out of my pajamas. Not only that, but 36 hours later, the box is on the recipient's doorstep, shipped free. It literally couldn't get any easier. And I think that's the problem.

I used to browse through store after store trying to find just the right thing. Sure, it was a pain in the neck and I could never find parking. I'd spend hours wondering if my sister, for instance, would like a blue cotton long-sleeved shirt, as usual, or maybe a funky top with beading? Eventually I'd man up and make a decision, lug my purchases home and wrap them myself, with little handwritten cards and ribbons I'd picked out just for her. And even though it meant I'd have to haul several heavy boxes to the post office, stand in line, and usually pay extra so it would get there on time -- it was personal. She'd know I'd gone through all that hassle just to get a cotton long-sleeved shirt to her by December 25th. The aggravation factor was half the gift. Now, the presents I give to my favorite people don't even pass through my hands.

I miss the little boutiques where holiday music played endlessly and helpful shopkeepers might make interesting gift suggestions. (Okay, that didn't happen very often, but still.) I miss ducking into little kitchen shops serving cups of hot apple cider on chilly days. I miss flipping through actual hard cover books to pick out a few for my kids, instead of browsing aimlessly online. Now, in the days of cyber Christmas, that authentic experience is almost obsolete. My most meaningful holiday interaction these days is with my UPS delivery guy. We've been spending a lot of quality time together.

And it's not just the presents. I used to pick out a box of cards (or even make them), enclose a special picture, and write a little something by hand. Now, I upload a few images to Snapfish or Kodakgallery, click on a card design and a few days later a box of 100 is sitting on my doorstep, requiring only computer-printed mailing labels and stamps. Some people go one step further and upload their distribution list to the online photo shop and the cards are mailed automatically! No muss, no fuss. I have a few friends who have given up on the chore entirely and are just sending out an email, maybe with a digital image of their kids attached, if they're feeling motivated. Why don't we all just IM or tweet a holiday greeting and call it a day?

Here's where I fear this might be going. (And it's not pretty.) We won't need to travel anymore to get together with family on the holidays. At around, say, 10 a.m. on Christmas morning, we'll all log onto Skype so we can watch our expressions of surprise and delight while we open up our email and check all the digital Visa cards we've sent each other. (Or maybe we'll even send Target.com or iTunes gift certificates, if we want to get really personal.) We'll all one-click our own purchases that very minute and thank each other profusely for our thoughtfulness. Then we'll open our ecards and marvel at how cute Johnny and Emma look in their Christmas outfits this year.

After the heart-warming gift exchange, we'll conference into a live stream of Christmas mass. Why trudge off to church when you can worship from the comfort of a home office? Sure, we can't take virtual communion, but it counts as attendance. It's the holiest day of the year, 21st century-style.

We can order holiday meals online to be delivered to our doorstep, watch on-demand Christmas specials on the computer instead of in the family room in front of the fire, and have our Second Life avatars drink eggnog and decorate the tree for us.

Enough!

I've finally come to my senses. I'm shutting down the laptop, once and for all. I will not be buying one more thing from Amazon.com, Gap.com or Target.com no matter how easy and cheap and fast it is. I've gone to Max's Art Supply (which is reporting strong sales this season) and bought an unusual friendship bracelet kit for my nieces and a barrette-making set for my child. Even though I'll probably pay more, I'm stopping into Age of Reason and Educational Warehouse to pick up a toy laptop, a puzzle and some stocking stuffers. They're our only independent toy stores around and I want them to stay in business. If we had an independent book shop, I'd be going there to browse through some new mystery series for my reading-obsessed 3rd grader. Since we don't, it'll have to be Barnes and Noble. But at least I'll be walking through the aisles of the store and flipping through actual books, instead of looking at PDFs of the back covers.

If I work hard, I'm hoping that for me, at least, I can make Christmas old-fashioned again. I'm aspiring to a holiday where the commercialism is labor-intensive and tiring – the kind that involves trudging to malls and post offices and standing in lines. But at least my gifts will mean more than just a click on my keypad.

Michelle Bowers is a Sunday columnist for Westport Patch. You can also read more about her on her blog www.momonthefrontlines.blogspot.com.