Twelfth Christmas Message

\

Christmas in My Hometown

 

 

I realize that this is not particularly the time and place to admit this, but I have come to completely despise the Christmas holidays. 'Tis the season to be jolly? Nonsense. It's not merely the cheap and cynical exploitation of the day that sends me into an utter funk every late December, it's the reminder of lost lives, shattered friendships and fractured families. Nostalgia is not always a pleasant thing; in fact it can be a bit of a bummer, you know? And although nothing will ever be able to top the 2013 Christmas season for sheer heartache and misery, the day is still a major drag for me. Pondering the fact that the president of the United States of America is certifiably insane also does not make for a particularly holly jolly Christmas. And given the deplorable state of my health, there isn't any reason to doubt that this won't be my last Christmas on earth. As Fats Waller once said, "One never knows, do one?

The older I get, the more I can relate to Ebenezer Scrooge. The old bugger is becoming more of a folk hero to me with the passing of each year. Bah, humbug indeed.

And then there is my major problem with Jolly old Saint Nick:

Santa Claus has not sent me a single thing in forty-nine years. Late on the night of Christmas Eve 1968, when I left the traditional milk and cookies for him, I spiked the milk with Old Granddad bourbon. Santa, although being a rather large person, apparently doesn't handle his liquor too well - in fact he doesn't handle it well at all. He took off from our rooftop and proceeded to crash into the Finkle home across the street. Four of his eight tiny reindeer were permanently paralyzed - horrible carnage. Since that ill-fated Christmas Eve, regardless of how naughty or nice I may have been during any given year, I’ve been permanently consigned to Santa’s “naughty” list. My intent that year was not at all malicious. I sincerely believed that I was doing the man a favor. Christmas Eve 1968 was a cold night, and I thought the dude might need a little something to warm himself up. So much for good deeds.

Now that I've got things off on that cheerful start....

But seriously, I do hope that you all are having a wondrous and beautiful time with your friends and families today; just don't look to this grumpy curmudgeon for inspiration. Perhaps I should sit down and put on a Bing Crosby record or It's A Wonderful Life. Or maybe I'll just gaze in awe at this:

Yeah, that works.

Happy Christmas, everybody!

Tom Degan
Goshen, NY

SUGGESTED LISTENING:

Adeste Fideles
by the Montovani Orchestra

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0qqV7jWTLYY

This recording from 1958 was my father's favorite Christmas record. It always reminds me of him when I hear it.