Friday, December 21, 2012

Oh that Holiday Feeling

The lights are up, the tree is lit, the presents are wrapped and all is ready. I can hardly wait for that one special day. That’s the day I get to haul all this crap back up to the attic and have my house back to the way it was for another year. Every end table, every nightstand in our home sports some sort of winter scene. It’s getting so a man hasn’t a place to put his eggnog any more. All this merry making makes me crankier than my usual charming self.

Every Christmas we get a real tree and this year was no different. We bought a seven-foot Douglas Porcupine. All I have to do is walk by the stupid thing and I get hit with a handful of needles. It feels like a stapler exploded over our carpet.

And those songs. That endless stream of carols wherever you go. Why don’t they use that on the Taliban? I’m ready to give up every secret I have after spending just a few hours at the mall. The first one they need to change is the “12 Days of Christmas”. I wish a republican produced that record and it would be down to just 3.

 A fifty-something woman was screaming at a salesclerk because they ran out of a toy she needed. You would have thought she lost her civil liberties instead of some lead-filled trinket from China. I’m not sure about Santa, but Meno Pause is coming to town.

My daughter wants a puppy. Great, it’s the gift that keeps on shitting. While I’m sure to get the same thing I got last year, high blood pressure.

And speaking of gifts, I have a question for my Christian friends out there (if I have any left after this). Just what did Mary and Joseph do with all that gold, frankincense, and myrrh? Did they at least get an upgrade out of the stable? No offense, but Jackie Coogan’s parents handled his money better.

I know what you’re thinking, you’re just a Scrooge. I say let’s give that old penny pincher a break. Be honest now, who would rather have as a neighbor, him or the Cratchits?

It’s also the time of year that every old entertainer comes out of mothballs. I guess I could get plastic surgery and try to look younger too, but I find those marks and etchings of a distinguished life endearing and not a liability. People such as Einstein, Gandhi, and Amelia Earhart had interesting and often weathered faces. When did fish lips and skin pulled so tight you would think it’s to keep the contents fresh become appealing? I see Billy Crystal and think, “Whose birthday is it? The balloon arrived.”

And all this talk about a Fiscal Cliff just makes me want to be the first to push a congressman off it. What else should we expect from the Grayish Generation.

Sure I could be thankful for my health and my family’s health. I have a nice roof over my head, food in the refrigerator, and our bills are paid. My children are doing well. My wife loves me. Why just last night she pulled me back from walking into traffic. “Honey,” she said, “be careful. I’m not ready to start dating yet.” And I have great friends too. I even have a nice mother-in-law. But I don’t have a pony, and really what is life without your own pony? Besides, if I didn’t focus on all the negative things I wouldn’t have anything to write about and you’d be terribly bored.

So all that whining and crying is just my way of saying Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to you all.


PS: I self-published “Sidney” which is now a chapter book and will be available on Amazon starting next week. Now to sit back and wait for all those offers to come piling in. Don’t anybody use the phone. That could be Random House now!





Here’s a card I did for Hedgehog Development in New York. They are helping with the relief after Hurricane Sandy.

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