The Christmas catalog season is a gift all its own

The holiday shopping season is underway. This year around my house it's easy: No one wants anything. No one needs anything. In fact, you'd be doing them a favor if you got rid of something. Box up a picture of you dropping off the Belgian Waffle Maker at the Hennepin County Recycling Center. Take a photo of last year's regrettable sweater going to Goodwill.

"What's this really big box? Is it? Did you ... "

"Open it and see!"

(Ripping sounds) "Oh! Proof of the removal of the broken Nordic Track! Thank you! It's just want I wanted!"

Of course we will end up getting each other something. At least the extended family has stopped exchanging things, because we all got each other gift cards that had the same value. Might as well do a Zoom call where we all take out cash, wave it at the camera, then put it back in our pocket.

But with the immediate family, after all these years, it's hard. Lucky for me, the mail brings a sheaf of catalogs every day, and they all fall into one of several categories.

The "Still Hoping You Think We're Connected to Public Radio" catalogs. The ideal target is someone who has not seen a new TV show since 1998. For these people we have a curated collection of DVDs of their favorite British mystery shows: "Detective Lord Vicar," "Mrs. Battersea-Murple's Village Slaughters," "Thorn of the Yard" and "Brother Tudwullup's Monastery Murders." Also included: "They, Claudius," a newly redubbed version to conform to modern gender theory. And may we suggest "The Best of Monty Python," which has every single skit, but arranged alphabetically?

The "Doing Good" catalog. This one is put out by a charity that provides livestock to needy people in other countries. I like the idea that I bought some total stranger in Malaysia a sheep. You can buy entire cows, but if the price is too steep, you can buy a portion, which makes it sound like "some assembly required." I envision some poor dad on Christmas morning, trying to put together a heifer, convinced they left out an important piece. "There's only one clavicle!"

The Old Person Bygone Junk Catalog. Remember that candy you liked in 1952? Horehound Whizzers? Dutch Bricks? Bit-O-Slurry? Well, they've got 'em! Granted, production ceased in the Nixon years, so they're a bit stale, but the packaging will take you back to that carefree era when you could chew a caramel without it lifting your dental plate off your empty gums.

This catalog also has various things for your miserable feet, back pillows, shin wraps, unattractive nightgowns and other things to make you feel as if you're headed for the compost heap.

I have not received this catalog yet, so it's possible that everyone in the target market has expired.

Finally, my favorite: The "Every Single Penny We Made Off That Cruise You Took in 2011 We Have Spent Five Times Over on Glossy Brochures That Arrive Fortnightly" holiday offerings.