Christmas Gifts for Famous People

How is your Christmas shopping coming?  Almost finished?  What? Haven’t started yet?!  Oh, my goodness.  For myself, I’ve had trouble coming up with appropriate gifts for famous people who have almost everything already.  So, my list this year is more of  a list to Santa with suggestions on what he could bring specific individuals.  Here are my suggestions for him.

Donald Trump.  Since he has everything money can buy, I’d suggest going in a different direction. To go with his most frequently used emotions (Envy and Anger), I suggest Santa give him a third emotion: Empathy. With his emotions increased, he’d be a better man as well as President.

Tiger Woods.  2019 should bring him his 15thmajor tournament victory.  Then, maybe, Jack Nicklaus will start looking over his shoulder again.



Michelle Obama. (see above)  Her book should be a best seller, money maker, and award winner, in part because she said, essentially, “the Emperor has no clothes.”  And we’re not talking about QEII.

Philadelphia Phillies.  This is the baseball team I have rooted for since I was 7 years old.  If Santa can bring them another 4 good hitters and 3 starting pitchers to compliment Aaron Nola, they could be a winning team again. Instead of picking up in 2019 where they left off in 2018: with a record of 14 – 31 in the season’s last quarter.

Super Bowl winner.  Perhaps Santa could arrange for the winners of competition between the Patriots – Chiefs, plus the Rams – Saints , to play in the Super Bowl …with the Saints winning?

LeBron James.  In the next 2 years, he will make Magic Johnson, Lakers’ fans, and himself happy with another NBA title.  (And retire?)



Ruth Bader Ginsberg. (see above)  Give her another 8 – 10 healthy years on the Supreme Court.

John Roberts.  After informing The Donald that there are no Obama or Bush Justices, his next step will become the new “majority maker” for the Court.  And, perhaps, lean a little Left?

Time Magazine’s Person of the Year  in creating the most news will be: Donald Trump.  Who else could it be?  Chris Christie?  And, honestly, who else could it be?**

In 2019, the Nobel Peace Prize will go to: No One.  Will anyone ever stand up to Syria?  Millions of lives have been destroyed and the world wrings it’s hands, but does nothing.  Do the words “Never Again” mean anything?

The 2019 Brothers from another Mother Prize goes to Donald Trump And Vladimir Putin.

Oscar for Best Documentary.  A tie = RBG and Won’t You Be My Neighbor.



Viola Davis. (see above)  With another Oscar for “Widows”, people may start saying “She’s the Black Meryl Streep.”  Or would the chant be: “Meryl Streep is the white Viola Davis?”

Any agreement on some of this Baker’s Dozen of possible Christmas gifts?


** = Just prior to posting this article, I found out Time’s person(s) of the year.  It was a wonderful choice.







About rcarmean

Two things... First, why have I decided to establish this blog? I like to put essays together. I research an idea or topic looking for information, statistics, stories, quotes, pictures, etc. I enjoy the process and seeing a finished product. I’m told that as I get older, new activities can help maintain energy and keep my brain alert. In other words, I am not doing this for money or fame. Second, regarding the gentleman in the collage of pictures's not me. Those are photos of Christy Mathewson. Why him? When I was young, my primary activity was being sick. It took up much of my time. Eczema (a case so bad I was written up in a medical journal showing doctors what their patients COULD look like), asthma, and allergies. You know allergies: don’t eat this, don’t wear that, and, for Heaven’s sake, don’t touch any of these things (eg, dogs, cats, horses --I only saw horses in cowboy movies and TV shows, dust, swimming pools, my brother --OK, that’s an exaggeration, Rick was a fine brother). In my spare time between doctors' appointments, pills, and ointments, baseball kept me sane. In the 1940s and 1950s, when I grew up, pro footballI and basketball had not yet become extremely popular. Baseball truly was “the national pastime.” I listened to games on the radio (remember it? TV without the picture). I read magazines, books, and newspaper accounts of games. I collected baseball cards. I learned about the game’s history, as well as present. The same with its stars. One man stood out: Christy Mathewson. He was a great pitcher for the New York Giants in the early 20th century. But there was much more to him. At a time when professional athletes made little money (yes, there was such a time) and ball players were considered on the same level as actors, artists, and prostitutes, Mathewson stood out. One of his nicknames was: “The Christian Gentleman.” Most men is baseball drank, smoked, cursed, and fought —with other players, umpires, and fans. The fights were physical, not just verbal. Mathewson did none of these things. But he earned the respect of other players who did them all. Even Ty Cobb and John McGraw. There’s more. He was a college graduate (Bucknell University) when most men were lucky to have a high school diploma. He played other sports, including pro football which you wouldn’t recognize. He was handsome. He played in New York City, then as now, the largest city in the country. Excellence and popularity there meant fame and money. He dressed well. Today, his commercials would rival LeBron’s. And, finally, a hero’s life must have tragedy. After his playing career ended, WWI arrived. He suffered from influenza and was exposed to mustard gas. Chemical warfare. His lungs were damaged and he required treatment for the rest of his life. (Like my Grandfather who also fought in The Great War.) He died in 1925. He was 45 years old. I have his picture here because you need to know more about him than me. He was what an athlete could be. Players like him and their accomplishments got me through a sickly, painful childhood and can still sustain me in difficult times. *****
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