According to corporate headquarters, and according to the man on the corner, it's already Christmas.

Well before Thanksgiving, Starbucks looks like Santa's workshop.

The woman running this neighborhood coffee house said the news that it was already Christmas came from the top -- put out snowflake cups or else.

The man on the corner said that getting holiday lights on his house was such a chore, he left them up throughout the year, all the green and red bulbs dangling below the gutter. And since they were already up, and once the temperature had plunged below 70, he decided to go ahead and flip on the holiday lights, lo these many weeks before Christmas, turning his corner into flashing holiday colors and depressing the neighbors near and far with all this premature spirit.

Starting Christmas so soon, it's possible to burn out of seasonal joy and burn back in, still with enough time left to get things done.

It's evidently never too early to start shopping for the horse player in your life.

Here's a list of suggestions.

No sweatshirt with a horse's head on it. Better a sweatshirt with a teller's head on it. We're bettors. Not collectors.

No ball caps. The bill and crown have to be shaped according to taste. One size embarrasses all.

No binoculars. Fresh air? You have to be kidding. It's all about Windex. It's all about the television screen.

No leather briefcase from Coach.

No whip.

No Mont Blanc pen. We lose everything at the race track, the occasional winning ticket included. The lost and found room at the races probably looks like the evidence room at the police station.

No trash can made of pari-mutuel tickets. Nobody needs to be reminded of bad wagers.

No book about handicapping. Handicapping is personal. It's like a golf swing. The last thing you need is something else to think about.

If you can't pick winners on your own, go home. A novel about horse racing, a non-fiction book about experiences in the horse racing game, sure, why not.

No commemorative glassware.

No hand-held computerized winner-picker.

No horse racing board game.

No win tickets on a horse. I have gotten a number of these gifts during the holiday season. Nothing quite says "Thinking of you on a cold winter's day" like a 20-1 shot that runs next to last. I once received as a Christmas gift a $2 win ticket on a horse that won and paid $16. The giver hadn't bet on the gift horse himself and asked to borrow $5 of my yuletide winnings. You could hear the air go out of the holiday spirit, it sounded like a keg being tapped.

Here's something every horse player could use, a crisp $100-dollar bill with a red bow around it.

Playing with somebody else's money is the gift that could keep on giving.

Write to Jay at jaycronley@go.com