As we get closer to Christmas, we must ask ourselves if we are properly prepared. Do we have the material that will help us survive this season with equinamity and good cheer? Are we well stocked up on coffee, tea, pipe tobacco? Band aids? Duct tape? Draino? Also, are we most of the time going to be far enough away from sound systems so that Little Drummer Boy doesn't send us into a psychotic rage parom pa pa pom?
It times like these I am grateful that my parents never bought albums of Christmas carols for the record player. And that back in the stone age Christmas movies hadn't been invented yet, and in any case never played outside of the American world.
The rest of you are perhaps less fortunate.
A few years ago, a coworker figured out how to have holiday music playing all day at work. Nothing inspires murderous fits quite as much as that. What was he thinking?
Fortunately, we are all placid sheep.
He quit in 2018, and sofar no one has remembered how to do that. But it's only a matter of time before the boss remembers the happiness, the good cheer, the dulcet tones, and the little children's radiant faces. No children are allowed anywhere near us or in the building, by the way. If there are NO children around, we should be safe, right?
To me, nothing says Christmas more than avoiding shopping areas, public gatherings, skating rinks, little children, parents with little children, grammar schools, doting grandparents with little children, charities with posters of little children, mall santas, the children's department at Macys, or photo opportunities (with little children).
There's hot sauce and cheese. I'll be okay.
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