The Prez has gotten all of his charges to spread the word: 'tis the season to spend loads of moolah. Personally, I'm not opposed to spending money on certain items. Like, say, a book. Or a CD. Or a beer. Though due to my wife Barbara's "confinement," I have had to restrict my suds intake in sympathy with the banishment of beer during her pregnancy.

She's not real down with the books, either, but that's mostly a storage issue and not a complaint about the printed word as such.

Still and all, I'm a little dubious of this "spend like mad crazy fools" message. After all, this encouragement is coming from an administration that is still trying to ram through a bankruptcy reform law that would trap a lot more people in massive debt. This would lead to loans from banks and lots more profits for banks and credit card companies--and just who do you think sends out all of those misleading credit card applications (You've got $10,000 in credit! Now you can go on that awesome tour of the finest strip clubs in Nepal!)?

But I have to agree that if folks spend more money during December our economy (not to mention the worldwide fiscal picture) will improve. This is a thorny issue for me. But I think I've hit upon a solution.

Give art.

That's right. Help out the folks who really need it. Some folks have this notion that artists are lazy cads who sit on their butts all day and rake in the dough. This is simply nuts. Unless independently wealthy (not an uncommon situation, I'll admit), an artist who wants to make any kind of money has to work his or her butt off. That painting hanging in the gallery that you think is overpriced at $800? Probably took the artist a month to paint. You want to live on $800 a month (before taxes)?

So give art this Christmas (or Hanukkah or Kwanzaa or whatever). Find a painting you think Aunt Sydney would like. Or a sculpture that may be manly enough for Uncle Steve. I'm sure your grandmother would love a smashing piece of pottery.

Don't stop there, though. Think of all the other ways you can give art this holiday season. Books, CDs and DVDs are all readily available, and they too are art. Alright, perhaps Porky's 4: The Fat Man Sings pushes the limit. That's okay. I'm not going to be making high and low art distinctions here. If you think it's art, then it's art.

Another way to give art would be to hand out tickets to your favorite local theater company. In my little corner of the New South, there are something like 20 theater companies (and I'm not even counting the theater departments of the eight local colleges and universities), and they all do something interesting at least once a year. They're certainly worth supporting. Not much for drama? Try symphony tickets. Or opera passes. A couple seats at the next George Carlin show. Cinema gift certificates. Any of these will do.

Are you like me, gainfully unemployed? No worries there. Make your own art. There are two bonuses here. First, making your own art is almost always cheaper than buying it. And second, it doesn't have to be good. The recipient will be thrilled to receive a truly personal gift. Unless we're talking about your six-year-old nephew Kenny. Then you'd better pony up for some Star Wars figures or something. But as far as regular adults go, personal art is a fine idea.

In the last five years, I've given everything from homemade candles to homebrewed beer. And I've received many wonderful self-made gifts. Like clay-covered pens (which are really cool, by the way--this is a fine ideer to pass on to your kids, if you have any).

The options for giving art are endless. Literally. Anything you can think of can probably work as a gift of art. Write a poem and frame it. Make a tape of your own music (whatever it might be). Wander down to the local gallery and buy one of those cool ceramic birdbaths shaped like a big (purple) sycamore leaf.

The cool thing about the gift of art is that the longer the recipient has it, the better it makes them feel. Art enriches life, and we attach our own feelings and experiences to whatever works of art surround us. Twenty years down the road, your gift will have a story you couldn't have imagined when you gave it.

Beats the hell out of robot dog, doesn't it?

Jon Worley hopes that someday people will buy his art and give it to their loved ones.