This year I decided to stop wasting money on Christmas gifts.
According to some economist's research, on average, we pay 16% more on stuff
than the recipients of our gifts would be willing to pay. And as I consider
myself to be always, always above average, I am for sure in a decent top
percentile of this statistic.
So no presents this year from me: no expensive bottles of wine, no
strangely overpriced bathrobes, no Chinese made, Romanian traditional wooden
elves. Maybe just some Lego, there must be peace in homes for Christmas.
What even the 16% researcher highlights, there is also an
emotional value that we wrap together with the gift paper, and his
study does not account for it. But for the emotions, a card
with some thoughts scribbled on the back, should be more than enough. And if I
outsource this job to my kid, even more emotion for almost no effort.
My plan for this year to stop destroying economic value is the
following: I will give cards to friends and family, and send the money to a
cause I believe in.
This year, my Christmas chimes and dimes will go to a guy who is for
me THE person of the year. He is a normal guy, a very normal guy: Mirel. Or he
was a normal, very normal guy some years ago, before the Emperor of maladies
decided to try to adopt Mirel’s kid. Now Mirel is a normal superman, a very
normal superman. (Emperor of maladies is the name of the Pulitzer prize winning
biography of this uninvited adopter).
This is the most difficult part for me to write and I will keep it
as short as possible. Writing about a person who discovered some years ago that
his 6 years old kid has brain cancer cannot be easy because the text cannot be
un-tragic. And that’s why it’s so difficult, because with Mirel you don’t feel
the tragic of it. When I visit him and Marinus for a drink and a chat, I feel good,
I feel very good, like having small, gossipy talk with old, old friends. And usually
the talk is not small at all, it’s about stuff I cannot write without being tragic.
And I will not write. Even without the malady, it’s hard for any normal person
to imagine a father-kid reality with a daily, simple, two beats rhythm, split
evenly, half hospital corridors half adopted home in this beautiful but for
them friendless, foreign city that is Vienna. No friends, no kids birthdays, no
school hassles, no domestic spouse fights. Nothing that makes the fabric of our
normal days seem boring or beautiful. Just simple, maddening, daily, home – hospital,
hospital – home commute. Or there are some temporary friends from hospital, but
in this reality they usually go to heaven soon after they meet them.
When I visit Mirel and Marinus, I never smell the dazzling perfume
of the emperor. He doesn’t have the guts to approach their house. The only
smell I smell is the smell of delicious home-made food, which together with an
infinite dose of practical optimism is Mirel’s receipt to fight the emperor.
This receipt, together with the 2 year experimental battle plan of AKH and some
more before in Romanian hospitals, should keep the emperor at bay and,
hopefully move him again in a Pulitzer prize winning book – history category
this time..
So that’s my Christmas plan.
Below I put Mirel’s account details, if you want to support him
and Marinus in their optimism infused, cooking adventure.
If you have other causes you believe in, be creative and send
there the money. For sure most of your friends have more Chinese made
traditional elves than is legally allowed in any European country. A card
should be enough.
Merry Christmas!
Radu
Account owner: Mirel Dolofan, Bank: BRD GROUPE SOCIETE GENERALE SA
Accounts:
RON: RO86BRDE426SV74231324260
EUR: RO33BRDE426SV74231414260
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