This is an archived article that was published on sltrib.com in 2016, and information in the article may be outdated. It is provided only for personal research purposes and may not be reprinted.

Today is Oct. 1. Where did 2016 go? It slipped away so quickly, leaving us aghast at the inalterable fact that it's just 85 shopping days until Christmas.

Panic is completely understandable. We're now just slightly more than 12 weeks away from the most expensive day of the year.

Note: Unless, of course, you got married/divorced this year, or had a liver transplant. In that case Christmas is the second most expensive day of the year.

The advent of Christmas hit me last week, when I opened the front door and saw the leaves on South Mountain were changing in earnest. There was also a skiff of snow or heavy frost. In that moment, I felt the wintry hand of financial ruin close around my neck.

As a kid, I was always excited by the subtle signs of Christmas approaching. They came on slowly, gathering momentum until my heart suddenly lurched with the realization that the magical day was close.

I still remember those old signs: cooler mornings, lengthening shadows, smell of falling leaves, and elementary school artwork beginning to hint at the Big Day.

But the most definitive moment came with the Old Man slamming on the brakes in a rage. Eyes burning in the rear view mirror, he would shout, "Tell me what you want for Christmas one more time! I dare you!"

As a kid, I couldn't understand the problem. It's not like the Old Man had to buy the gifts himself. That's what Santa Claus was for, and how would Santa know what we wanted unless it was said out loud over and over?

It wasn't until I had kids of my own that I realized the importance of holiday sensitivity, specifically that it's not a good idea to badger the people who have to pay for the holiday. However, there was, and is, no way of getting that across to them without ruining things.

You can't convince retailers of this necessary sensitivity. Only fear of lynching keeps them from starting the Christmas shopping season immediately after Groundhog Day.

Think I'm kidding? I've been to at least two stores now that have Christmas items on display. At one of them, the offending item (Christmas wreath) is stocked right next to a rack of Halloween costumes.

Do they have any idea of what this does to families with impressionable children, the havoc and discord it creates?

Kid: "Look! There's Rudolph on that package! Christmas is coming! Oh, boy. Oh, boy."

Father: "Where's the $%@# manager of this dump? Somebody is getting a beating for Christmas early."

I confess that things have changed for me over the past few years. I get that "oh, boy!" feeling at the signs of Christmas again. The sudden lurch in my heart might be a blown coronary valve, but I suspect more that it's the thought of revenge. I'm looking forward to the Big Day again. In fact, I'm becoming a pest about it.

Grandchild No. 1: "For the millionth time, I don't want a Taser for Christmas!"

Grandchild No. 2: "No. I don't even know how to play an electric guitar."

Grandchild No. 3: "Mom won't let me have a [snake/ferret/skunk]."

Robert Kirby can be reached at rkirby@sltrib.com or facebook.com/stillnotpatbagley.