Jim Kershner : My $25 suits me just fine

This is the time of year when I’m sure you are pondering the question: Is your $10 million Christmas bonus enough to make you happy?

The sad answer, according to the New York Times, is no. Ten million dollars, which is what some Wall Street traders received, just won’t buy much these days. For instance, the really nice apartments in Manhattan, the ones with 6,000 square feet and views of Central Park, are going for $20 million. And those apartments probably don’t even allow dogs. Sorry about that, Bosco, old pal.

And you can forget about that yacht. It’ll cost you $30 million just for a medium sized 140-footer, and then there’s the expense of the marina, the skipper, the “deck hands” in bikinis and all the booze you’ll be sipping as you party on the poop deck. A bottle of 50-year-old Macallan whisky in a Lalique decanter will run you $9,000.

So I thought I would reduce this question to Spokane proportions and lop off $9,999,975 from the bonus. Now I ask you this question: Is your $25 Christmas bonus enough to make you happy?

My answer: Hell, yes.

A person can go crazy with a nice $25 Christmas bonus. Believe me, I have become an expert in this art. Every year, I go on a crazy shopping spree with my modest Christmas gift, and, frankly, I feel nothing but pity for those poor Wall Street saps who can’t find anything they want for $10 mil.

Their mistake: They don’t spend it at the supermarket. The supermarket is a giant treasure chest of exotic luxury items, few of which cost over $5.

Let me just list a few of the things I have purchased with my bonus over the years:

“ A tin of smoked clams, which taste way better than caviar.

“ A bar of Ghirardelli chocolate, even though I usually have to look in the cooking products aisle and buy one with a label that says “semi-sweet baking bar.” (Trust me, it tastes just fine.)

“ A tube of Pringles snack chips, preferably the exquisite “sour cream and onion” flavor. One year, I was fortunate enough to find Pringles on a 2-for-1 sale, because, let’s face it, I can polish off one tube of Pringles before halftime.

“ A half-gallon of Tillamook vanilla bean ice cream, with Hershey’s chocolate syrup as a superlative accompaniment.

“ An entire chub of Italian dry salami, preferably wine-cured and covered with that gray powder.

“ A packet of Zatarain’s crab-and-shrimp boil, because I never know when the urge will strike to whip up some jambalaya.

“ A bottle of Crystal Hot Sauce, the gift that will keep on giving all year as I sprinkle it on, for instance, my oatmeal.

“ A six-pack of fine quality soda pop, preferably Henry Weinhard’s orange cream, vanilla cream or black cherry.

“ A bottle of champagne, preferably Mountain Dome if I have enough of my bonus left, or Andre if I don’t.

By the way, I have discovered it’s best to spend my Christmas bonus at one of those mega-stores, like Fred Meyer, because then I can also wander into the sporting goods aisle and pick up some hand warmers, which, in my book, are the ultimate decadent luxury item.

This year, however, many of my friends and I found an even easier way to extract maximum happiness from our Christmas bonuses. We gave them away to a family that needed them more.

Hey, all of you sad Wall Streeters, how about that for an idea? Give that $10 million bonus to charity. I know it’s easier to give away $25 than it is $10 million, but look at this way: You wouldn’t have been able to buy anything you really wanted with it anyway.