It's crunch time folks. We're deep into the fourth quarter, and you face fourth down and 15 gifts to go. Never mind that you don't need to be buying 15 gifts in the first place. That's another column for another day. Right now, you're needing to get 80 yards downfield with 25 seconds on the clock and no time outs. Here comes the play from the sideline...

Mom (or Mom-in-law):
Chocolate. If she's allergic to chocolate or diabetic or whatever, pick a food she likes. But chocolate is the mother lode.

Dad (or Dad-in-law):
One of those snazzy new iPod nanos. If that's out of your budget (as it is mine), then go with a book that can be read on the can. Something with short chapters or, better yet, just bits of trivia. The old Book of Lists series is fine. You can also find such things as The Book of Sports Lists, The First Original Unexpurgated Authentic Canadian Book of Lists, and my favorite, The Disinformation Book of Lists. In a pinch, you could go with The Guinness Book of World Records, but that would be pretty lame.

Bro (or Bro-in-law):
Candles are always good...but maybe that's just my brothers. Beer is also a winner. There are plenty of brews with names tied to the season: Bad Elf, Seriously Bad Elf, Dirty Dick's, Lump of Coal, Santa's Private Reserve, etc. There are also plenty of great seasonal brews from the likes of Anchor, Brooklyn, Sierra Nevada, Sam Adams and more. If that doesn't work, there's a 20th anniversary edition of Straight Outta Compton. That disc is an eternal crowd-pleaser.

Sis (or Sis-in-law):
Never had a sister and don't have a sister-in-law. Hope yours likes beer.

Son (aged 3-6):
Right in my wheelhouse. Hot Wheels are golden. They're cheap, even if you buy an armload. Skip all those cheesy sets where the car jumps the snapping crocodile (or lake of fire or whatever). They break really fast. Just give the boys cars and they'll be happy for weeks.

Child (aged 0-3):
A big-ass box. I'm not kidding. All those jokes about how little kids ignore the expensive present and play with the box instead? They're not jokes. Go to U-Haul or, even better, an appliance store and get the biggest box you can find. Or get a bunch. It doesn't matter. The little freaks can crawl in them, crayon on them and generally have more fun than should be legal at that age.

All other kids:
Two words: Gift card. Unless you happen to know that little Stevie just loved Atonement, best to skip the Cecilia and Robbie action figures. If you don't know what might be the best card, simply send cash. Kids love cash. It has magical properties.

Boss:
Don't get anything. It's a mad, mad, mad, mad world, and even a gift given with the best of intentions can backfire. A gift certificate to his or her favorite restaurant is likely to elicit, "What, you think I'm some sort of pig?" as a thank you. This is just a bad idea. Give a card. Sign your name. If you must.

Underlings:
I just love that word. Had to use it. Anyway, same thing goes as with bosses, except with more gusto. Don't single out particular employees, even if you are pals with them and not the others. A card. Without family photo. If you must.

Co-workers:
Speaking generally of folks in the same strata as you, of course. Here, Doowutchyalike. Don't be showy about it, but hey, if you know Phil would love tickets to Spamalot--and you can afford such things--knock yourself out. Comestibles of all kinds are also a very good idea. Just make sure you fully cook the meat in your mincemeat pie.

Pets:
You must be joking. But if you must, you won't hurt anyone but your budget. Max out your cards as PetSmart for all I care.

Neighborhood cop, mail carrier, newspaper delivery person, hairdresser, etc.:
Food for the government employees (the police generally frown on their officers receiving cash grants from the public), cash for the others.

Everybody else:
You're a much more giving person than me, and you're on your own. Good luck.

Alright, did you score the winning touchdown, or were you thrown back into the end zone for a safety? Ahh, doesn't matter. Christmas will be here in nine days, whether or not you finish shopping. One day at a time ought to do the trick.

C'mon folks, 'tis the season to be jolly, not the season to be melting down your credit cards. Get a few gifts, get home and have a goblet or two of Troeg's Mad Elf while you relax by the fire. That's truly getting into the season.

Jon Worley would like a nice single malt for Christmas.