"After years of being driven quite mad by the demands of traveling and going to parties and shopping and entertaining and Heaven-knows-what-all between the end of October and the beginning of January, I decided to opt out. A few years ago when I turned 35 I simply decided that for the sake of my mental health and general well-being, I was no longer traveling between Hallowe'en and New Year's.
In fact, I was going to give myself blanket permission to remember the winter holidays with small, happy little token gifts, preferably homemade, and surprise people with more substantial gifts at other times when they would probably enjoy them more. I wasn't going to run myself ragged buying crazy quantities of presents, or making myself crazy with the kind of lavish "outdo-the-Joneses" holiday entertaining that some folks seem to go in for at this time of year. I wasn't going to romanticize some manufactured version of a holiday that never really existed, nor was I going to try to make what is technically "my" holiday, Hanukkah, fill in for that imaginary version of Christmas.
I was, in short, all but abdicating from the American "holiday season."
None of this was about being a dour old sourpuss or a cranky scrooge. It was about staying sane, and not letting myself be shoved around by someone else's priorities. It was also about having enough time to take nice long walks with my dog during brilliant cold days, and curl up and enjoy being cozy on long nights, without feeling like I had to be doing a million other things just because it was The Holiday Season. It was about getting to celebrate midwinter in ways that felt right and respectful to myself and the people I love, however that might be.
I've done varying versions of this for the past three years now, and it's great. My out-of-state family accepted my blanket statement that I wasn't traveling with great equinamity: they are happy to have me visit at other times. My friends have appreciated the quirky cards and letters and gifts. This year my partner and I are making homemade marshmallows in exotic flavors, and homemade caramels, to send in small boxes to our dear ones. My friends seem also to appreciate that my calmness and happiness during this hectic time of year is, it seems, a little contagious. (I think it's really helpful for people to have someone they can turn to who will tell them it's okay if they don't do whatever-it-is, that no, really, no one is going to dock you points if you're not broke and insane by December 25!)"
I just wanted to share this tidbit that I received in a newsletter. Chris
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"Never argue with an idiot... They'll drag you down to their level and beat you with experience..."
Twas the Night before Christmas, and all through the shack Not a creature was stirrin', cept the lice on muh back. The Skoal cans wuz nailed to the screen door with care, With hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.
The children were sleepin', all snug in their beds, While visions of? tractor pulls danced in their heads. And Ma in her nightgown all stained with pound cake. Had just settled down to watch Ricki Lake.
When out in the driveway, a loud noise I heard, I opened the winder to check muh T-bird. I ran to the door, like I's on a mission, But I tripped on some parts from muh granny's transmission.
The moon shone outside, the hound dog wuz barkin'. Muh daughter weren't? home yet, she wuz still out parkin'.
When what to muh whiskey blind eyes should I see But a Chevy S-10, pulled by eight flyin' sheep. With a fat nasty driver, so disgustin' and sick I said, "Shoot Fire! That must be St. Nick!
More rapid than X-lax his wooly sheep came And he belched and he hollered, and he called 'em by name.
Now CLIFFORD! Now VERNON! Now LESTER and ENUS! On FESTUS!? On ELMER!? On ROSCOE and CLETUS!
From the top of the shack to them there garbage bins Now Dash Away! Dash Away! Dash Away youins!
I heard a loud sound on the roof of muh shack. Pud down muh beer and went fer muh gun rack. He fell through the roof, plum killed my dog, I swear that ole' Santa looked just like Boss Hog.
He wore a T-shirt, rebel flag on the front, And his jeans were all bloody from that morning's hunt. A big nekkid lady tattooed on his arm, And he wore black boots that he'd picked up in 'Nam.
His eyes, how they glazed from too much Wild Turkey. From the side of his mouth hung a stick of beef jerky. A scar on his cheek from a fight with the cops. The veins on his face looked ready to pop.
The butt of a Marlboro clung to his lip He wore a hip pack full of B-B-Q chips. He had a fat face and a hairy beer belly. I ain't seen one that big since muh ex-wife Shelly.
He was gap-toothed and dumb with an I.Q. of three And I laughed cause that redneck was smarter than me. A wink of his eye, a fierce shake of his head, From his hair came a rat that ran under the bed.
He reached in his sack, sipped his gin and tonic, Then filled the kid's stockings with Hooked on Phonics. His toys came from Big Lots and they weren't very nice But he had lots of them and yuh can't beat the price.
He gave us a tape of them hound dogs that sing Jingle Bells. Some Crisco, some Spam, some Oatmeal Cream pies, And a Nascar T-shirt in Double X size.
When the presents were gone and he had no more, He staggered and stumbled right through muh screen door.
He hopped in his truck, to his sheep gave an order "Hurry up you youngins! To the Washington border!" And I heard him cry out, with a strong southern drawl, "MERRY CHRISTMAS, YOU REDNECKS! MERRY CHRISTMAS Y'ALL... YEE HAWWWW!
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"LOVE" devoid of self-gratification, is in essence, the will, to the greatest good...of another.
When out in the driveway, a loud noise I heard,