After several hours of staring at products gridded across the screen, it didn’t exactly lift my spirits to check my shopping cart to find I’d filled about a third of it with personal gifts. I pared it down to one, and forged on.

Amazon makes it easy with the Wish Lists, but that seemed lazy, so I was still stuck trying to find the right things for the right price, having established a per-person budget. It’s all so complicated, but the only choice that saves time, gift certificates, makes me feel like a tool.

Next year, however, it’s tool time. Being a thoughtful Santa is too much work.

We ate at the Jewel City diner, where everything was jammed in so as to allow us to barely squeeze through in order to eat at a ten-inch-wide bar. Morgan failed once again to avoid my taking his picture.

It was like a compact version of 50s nostalgia, and not a bad scene, overall.

I had a very good turkey burger, while Morgan tried horking down the World’s Most Drenched Caesar Salad. Seriously, the thing was smothered.

We wandered through, window shopping and browsing through stuff that was way too expensive (the Sony store, particularly). I didn’t get any shots of them, but there were more people wearing sweats than I think I’ve ever seen at any mall. It was the strangest dichotomy; people were either overdressed or looking like they just came from their evening spin class.

Urban Outfitters had a few stocking stuffer novelties we liked, admidst the skinny jeans and keffiyehs. Um, can anyone tell me when this marijuana book craze started?

Mostly a bust tonight, but there is always one thing The Americana can boast: Gayest. Statue. Ever.