Unemployed hoping for a green Christmas

By Shirleen Holt
Seattle Times business reporter

	KEN LAMBERT / THE SEATTLE TIMES Jim Mercure has a Christmas list that is beyond the ordinary. It includes vitamins, a bus pass and six months' worth of car insurance.
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They don't want to sound ungrateful or anything, but the unemployed have a message for their relatives: We don't want a singing wide-mouth bass for Christmas. Or a coffee-table book. Or a "Hang in There" cat poster.

On this, the third Christmas since the economy tanked, Washington's unemployed face yet another season of giving and getting — then returning for something they really need. Like help with the rent, a haircut, maybe some grocery money, a bus pass wouldn't hurt.

Although family members are often helpful to their out-of-work relatives throughout the year — offering job leads, loans and often a place to stay — they can be clueless when it comes to holiday gift-giving.

Just ask Jim Mercure, a 37-year-old Seattle photographer and Web designer who hasn't had a permanent full-time gig since he lost his job with the now-defunct online-shopping site Mercata in 2000.

"I don't want to sound cold or callous, but you get these gifts that don't make any sense," he said.

Mercure makes some money through freelance photography, but mostly he's living off credit cards, bringing his debt load to nearly $20,000. He has no health insurance, no dental insurance. He shares his North Seattle home with roommates to help with the rent.

Last Christmas his brother gave him a wind-up alarm clock.

	KEN LAMBERT / THE SEATTLE TIMES Freelance photographer Jim Mercure, in his Fremont photo studio with a handless clock that was left by a former tenant: "When you freelance, there's no reason to watch the clock," he says. "You're never off the clock, trying to find the next job." Mercure hasn't had a permanent job since 2000.

"I think he re-gifted it," Mercure said. "I'm in my mid-30s. You'd think I'd be totally set in that department."

Mercure and others out of work agreed to share their secret wish lists — gifts for the person who has, well, not as much as he used to.

Topping Mercure's list is, not surprisingly, cash, the gift with a multitude of uses.

"At least I can put it to good use," he said.

He'd also like nice clothes for job interviews; a gift certificate to Costco; six months' worth of car insurance; a gift certificate for a résumé update or a career counselor; help with paying off past-due bills; help with his rent; vitamins ("they're expensive"); and a bus pass.

Mercure, whose own gift-giving includes fixing used bicycles to donate to the needy, also knows what he doesn't want: a Hallmark card ("unless there's cash in it"), clothes ("unless the receipt is in the box") and stuffed animals.

An avid outdoorsman, Mercure also got a reputation among his friends and family as a "gearhead," which meant that every holiday brought more gifts of gear. Now he'd rather get a free dental visit: "I've got everything I need gearwise."

Tom Mohrman, 27, arrived from Arizona three weeks ago figuring he could get by on a month's worth of savings and credit cards until he finds some restaurant or DJ work.

	KEN LAMBERT / THE SEATTLE TIMES Mercure's desk includes several versions of his business cards along with spare change. Mercure figures he's nearly $20,000 in debt.

But the job search is taking longer than he thought, and the bus trips to the library to surf the Internet job boards are sucking up cash.

Now all he wants for Christmas is a bus pass, an Internet connection and "a lot of stamps."

"This probably wasn't the smartest time to move," Mohrman said.

Last year Jeanne Thompson's Christmas gift from her then-boyfriend was dinner at the Four Seasons in San Francisco. That gift, consumed in less than two hours, would probably pay for half the insurance on her Saab convertible.

Thompson went from making $110,000 a year as a program manager for an Internet startup in Silicon Valley to applying for jobs at the Gap and staying with her sister in Seattle. She has burned through her savings and most of her 401(k) in 18 months.

Now, Thompson, 39, wishes for gifts more practical. Like new tires and windshield wipers to handle the Northwest weather. A warm coat and mittens, which she never needed in California. New clothes for interviewing. Her cellphone bill paid. A teeth cleaning would be nice, since she no longer has medical or dental insurance.

Chris Haddad, a 26-year-old copywriter, lost his last job two months ago writing for a Seattle greeting-card company. He wants his student loans paid for a month "to give me a little breathing room."

He'd also like catastrophic health insurance, a plane ticket somewhere to get away from the stress and one more thing:

"A time machine back to the late '90s when most of us didn't have to worry about this sort of thing."

Shirleen Holt: 206-464-8316 or sholt@seattletimes.com

Copyright © 2003 The Seattle Times Company