Plasma 5 is a bit like Christmas shopping for your honey. It is an adventure. It is exhilarating. It is confusing. It starts out as hopeful and optimistic. It devolves into the vacuum cleaner at Sears and a stool at the local pub. Happened AGAIN!!!

You guys know how it goes. Thanksgiving rolls up and make a solid decision that this year you are going to do the whole Christmas shopping for sweet spot "right".
You start making a mental list of what, where and how to pull this off. Get some advice from the dog and make a firm resolution that this will be the best, and likely the first time, you can call Christmas with honey a success.

Off you go.....

You have the plan, jewellery and clothes. All honeys love jewellery and clothes. How can you go wrong? Oh boy!!!!

It's called FEAR!!!

Abject, bend you over, blinding, numbing FEAR!!!

So here is how it usually goes.

Get the big ticket out of the way and see what's left. Jewellery. Ever walked cold into a jewellery store? Daunting. Everything is shiny and sparkles. Then you hear those dreaded words, "How may I help you?". The sudden reality sinks in, you have no idea, and you freeze. You are suddenly all alone, no backup, not even the dog. Those next dreaded words, "Take a look around and let me know if you see something you like." Your head is now spinning and a cold sweat takes over your body. You are thinking, "No, you don't understand! I want you to take me by the hand and tell me exactly what I need to do. Please HELP me."

You spend an hour walking from counter to counter looking at all the shiny bits behind the glass and you become oh so confused. You conjure the nerve to ask about a ring. The shop keeper asks about honey's ring size, and if she is allergic to this or that, and what kind of stone and the cut and the quality and the this and the that and she needs this and that and take a look at it with this thing that you put on your eye and see how nice it looks....... The sweat is taking over. You are convinced that all the shoppers are actually standing at the window to watch you make a right fool of yourself, that the shop minder thinks you are casing the joint. The FEAR becomes paralysing. The walls are closing in, the heart is racing, you are ALONE in this mysterious place called a jewellery store. "OK thanks maybe I'll look around a bit more." as you ease yourself to the exit still convinced she thinks you are casing the joint. But you escape. Success. You made it out the door into the fresh brisk December air.

Plan B:

Clothes

OK you decide that will be much easier. WRONG AGAIN!


You make your way to the department store and after pause find courage to walk through that rotating thing they call a door. There is a guy outside dressed up in a marching band outfit and women racing about the side walk dressed in fur. It is all very surreal, but you make it through the door. The rest should be easy.

WRONG. WRONG, WRONG!!!

First assault, the make-up department. That swirling maze of counters filled with boxes and bottles of things you have never encountered coupled with beautiful women painting and spraying each other with varying magic potions. You have truly entered a state of fear and loathing. It extends for miles this confusing yet somehow appealing maze of the feminine allure. But the confusion is maddening and you must escape and you do.

Next you must battle through a visual onslaught of things called shoes. Unrecognisable. No laces. Most would require diagrams and drawings to install and oh my the sizes and colours!!

Your walk becomes a sprint to this virtual forest of "clothes". This is not really a forest, or a park or a preserve. It is a teaming jungle filled with nymphs and allure and danger and deadly traps. Again, LOST, in a jungle of choices and selections with no idea which direction to go. A teaming jungle of colours and sizes and styles. You are now nothing but a pile of spittle to be wiped from the floor.

There is hope. This is Saturday, there is tomorrow and next week so there is time. Hope, while elusive, exists! You decide a break is required and head for home, then you see it! That old friend, the hardware store. Seeking relief from the fear and depression, you detour. Walking into the establishment and the familiarity surrounds you. The wonderful smell of new power tools. That oh so familiar feel of a good framing hammer. That Bosch wormdrive you have been eyeing. You have found safety. You are no longer lost. You have a new plan and convince yourself, in seconds, that it will work. She needs these things. She really does and now won't be borrowing YOUR chainsaw.

So a thousand dollars later you walk out feeling like a true Santa with a new cordless drill. the latest Farmboss chainsaw and an oh so contractor grade skill saw. Wait till she sees this stuff!!! Her "clothes" will fall off!!!

Ya right, you just bought yourself a permanent seat at the bar with your name engraved on the rail.

Merry Christmas.