You’re a Mean One, Mr. Ordinary Joe
Only a couple of weeks until Santa Claus comes back to town, and I am not in the holiday spirit. Heck, I might need some holiday spirits to get me through the Christmas season.
Maybe the reason I am a meanie is due to the fact I will be soon be moving out of our house. I have never thrown out so much junk in my life. I forgotten I had stored in the attic such thrilling videos as hunting whitetail deer in rural Illinois. And mice had chewed through my G-rated glossy magazines on bovine reproduction. During the Thanksgiving weekend, I yelled to myself, “I can’t take it anymore! I have too much (a couple dozen expletives deleted) to throw out!” I never thought that at this stage of my life I would become an amateur junkman.
While I am throwing out crap, I still have to buy junk for Christmas presents as well as birthday gifts for siblings. AUUGH! My bank account will suffer a big hit over the next couple of months. Christmas is theoretically the season for giving, but if you are not careful, it is also the time in which you will be getting a quick ride to the poorhouse.
I know Christmas without cold weather is like pizza without sauce and cheese, but still the onset of winter has depressed me. Maybe it is because I am getting old and my bones can’t ignore the chill anymore. I am now beginning to realize why so many of the blue-haired set move to hotter climes like Arizona and Florida. It is no fun shoveling snow, defrosting cars, sitting in front of a furnace, and dressing up like Nanook of the North year after year during the winter months.
Not surprisingly, politics have not cheered me up. Three more years of President Trump could make anyone to the left of Attila the Hun turn into a Grinch, unless, of course, there is an impeachment. And then have been all of those recent political sex scandals. Even though I am a connoisseur of supermarket tabloid news and the sleazy parts of presidential biographies, even I was shocked seeing how many so-called respectable politicians are actually dirty old men (and maybe a dirty old woman or two) who make the late Hugh Hefner and libidinous rock stars look like a troop of Eagle Scouts. If we are getting the government we deserve, then I believe it’s time for anarchy. Maybe no politicians might be preferable than those who have their hands on the till as well on teats.
And watching TV this time of year is either reruns of show shown during October or reruns of the same old same old holiday movies and specials I saw when I still had my baby teeth. No wonder the Outhouse Bowl between Directional School U and College of Lost Causes attracts an audience. At least it is new and, in the words of Monty Python, something completely different.
Maybe as Christmas draws near, I will be warbling “Have a Holly Jolly Christmas” and become merrier than Santa after he drinks a few cups of spiked eggnog. But for now, BAH HUMBUG to the holiday season.
Joe’s Maybe Memorable Quote of the Day
Everybody loves a Christmas tree, especially a dog.