Christmas Eve, 2018

Today is the day of Christmas Eve, when millions of people across the nation and the world make their annual pilgrimage to the mall in search of the gifts they haven't yet purchased, or frantically await the arrival of the auxiliary Santas from FedEx and UPS with gifts bought online that were "guaranteed" to arrive by Christmas. Tonight, children will set out milk and cookies for Santa and desperately try to stay up late in hopes of seeing him, parents will use salty language as they try to deal with the toy for which "some assembly (is) required*," and stores will sell out of the batteries you didn't realize you needed for that toy for which "some assembly (is) required."

Here's timely quote from Dave Barry:

"Once again we find ourselves enmeshed in the Holiday Season, that very special time of year when we join with our loved ones in sharing centuries-old traditions such as trying to find a parking space at the mall. We traditionally do this in my family by driving around the parking lot until we see a shopper emerge from the mall, then we follow her, in very much the same spirit as the Three Wise Men, who 2,000 years ago followed a star, week after week, until it led them to a parking space**" ...

Ah, the holidays!

There are other Christmas Eve activities going on as well, such as the traditional Denial of Responsibility by Donald "Grinch" Trump for the results of (fill in stupid decision here), and the half-hearted search for a solution to the partial government shutdown (for which Mr Trump, having definitively and on tape before a large audience, has claimed full responsibility, but now blames on Congressional Democrats). No peace on earth, here.

Today's commentary is fairly short ... I'll have more to say tomorrow in my traditional Christmas Day post. I'll just warn you to be careful if you plan to go out today, because the stores will all be madhouses, parking lots will look like the beaches of 1944 Normandy, and drivers will be more distracted than usual.

And I want to see you all safe and happy tomorrow.

Have a good day. More thoughts coming.

Bilbo

* "Some assembly required" is the shortened version of the statement, "Some assembly by credentialed mechanical or electrical engineers is required."

** This was one of my mother's favorite cartoons ... here's the original in situ in Esquire Magazine, December, 1960.

Christmas Eve, 2017

Today is the day of Christmas Eve, when millions of people across the nation and the world make their annual pilgrimage to the mall in search of the gifts they haven't yet purchased. Tonight, children will set out milk and cookies for Santa and desperately try to stay up late in hopes of seeing him, parents will use salty language as they try to deal with the toy for which "some assembly (is) required*," and stores will sell out of the batteries you didn't realize you needed for that toy for which "some assembly (is) required."

Here's an appropriate quote from comic author Dave Barry:

"Once again we find ourselves enmeshed in the Holiday Season, that very special time of year when we join with our loved ones in sharing centuries-old traditions such as trying to find a parking space at the mall. We traditionally do this in my family by driving around the parking lot until we see a shopper emerge from the mall, then we follow her, in very much the same spirit as the Three Wise Men, who 2,000 years ago followed a star, week after week, until it led them to a parking space**."

Ah, the holidays!

In our home, we celebrate Christmas in the German tradition, opening gifts and having our big dinner on Christmas Eve, which means that I've got to get moving to get the house cleaned and help Agnes get dinner preparations underway before the local grandchildren descend on us.

So this is going to be a short post today ... I'll have more to say tomorrow in my traditional Christmas Day post. I'll just warn you to be careful if you're going to be out today, because the stores will all be madhouses.

And I'll see you tomorrow.

Have a good day. More thoughts coming.

Bilbo

* "Some assembly required" is the shortened version of the statement, "Some assembly by credentialed mechanical or electrical engineers is required."

** One of my mother's favorite cartoons from many years ago showed two robed men on camels riding across the desert, with a third far behind them in the distance. One of the ones in front was turning and shouting, "Hurry up, Balthasar! It's a quarter to AD!"

Christmas Eve

Today is the day of Christmas Eve, when millions of people across the nation and the world make their annual pilgrimage to the mall in search of the gifts they haven't yet purchased. Tonight, children will set out milk and cookies for Santa and desperately try to stay up late in hopes of seeing him, parents will use salty language as they try to deal with the toy for which "some assembly (is) required," and stores will sell out of the batteries you didn't realize you needed for that toy for which "some assembly (is) required."

Here's an appropriate quote from comic author Dave Barry:

"Once again we find ourselves enmeshed in the Holiday Season, that very special time of year when we join with our loved ones in sharing centuries-old traditions such as trying to find a parking space at the mall. We traditionally do this in my family by driving around the parking lot until we see a shopper emerge from the mall, then we follow her, in very much the same spirit as the Three Wise Men, who 2,000 years ago followed a star, week after week, until it led them to a parking space."

Ah, the holidays!

Tomorrow, I'll put up my annual Christmas post ... for now, here's a brief message for the clueless shouting heads that are trying to spin the idiotic "war on Christmas" ...

May the spirit of the holidays be with you, even if The Force isn't.

Have a good day as you get ready for Christmas Morning. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

The Language of Happiness

Today is Christmas Eve, the day that seems 72 hours long to children awaiting the arrival of Santa Claus and 90 minutes long to parents struggling with gifts for which "some assembly (is) required." It's the culmination of the Christmas Season, the week in which most people* are filled with good cheer and love of their fellow man, whom they despise the other 51 weeks of the year.

This year's Christmas Eve is a melancholy one. We're still mourning the children murdered in Connecticut and shaking our heads at the moral and political cowardice of our elected officials and die-hard single-interest groups. "Peace on earth, goodwill toward men" has been replaced by "Buy more guns because your fellow man may be a monster."

But it is, nevertheless, Christmas Eve, and so here at Bilbo's place we will endeavor to be happy in whichever ways large and small we are able. Like using happy language.

This article appeared in Mental Floss magazine on December 18^th: 25 of the Happiest Words in English.  It discusses the results of a 2011 scholarly paper titled Positivity of the English Language. The Mental Floss article is better, because it saves you from wading through 21 pages of incomprehensible statistical analysis and confusing graphs, and because it reduces the list of 10,000 most frequently used words to a list of the top 19 "happy" words**. They are:

Laughter;

Happiness;

Love;

Happy;

Laughed;

Laugh;

Laughing;

Excellent;

Laughs;

Joy;

Successful;

Win;

Rainbow;

Smile;

Won (the past tense of win, not the Korean currency***);

Pleasure;

Smiled;

Rainbows; and,

Winning.

You may note that the list is somewhat shorter if we combine various forms of some of the words (smile and smiled; win, won, and winning; laughter, laughed, laugh, laughing, and laughs; rainbow and rainbows; and happy and happiness). 

I should also note that one of the comments on the Mental Floss article suggested that the word poop be included on the list, because 

"... the word's got it all...palindrome, onomatopoeia, and its mirror image upside down spells boob, another happy word."

So ...

For one day ... just one day ... let's smile and laugh with pleasure as we have an excellent day full of joy and happy rainbows.

Okay, forget it. Even on Christmas Eve I can't get that sappy. How about good old peace on earth, goodwill toward men****? I don't think we can get happier and more hopeful***** than that.

 Have a good day. More seasonal thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

* Not, unfortunately, Congress.

** The article calls the list the top "20," but there are really only 19. The editor must have been on holiday.

*** Unless you are a member of the Korean top 1%.

**** Yes, it says "men," but it includes women, too. Gimme a linguistic break here.

***** "Hopeful" does not apply to Congress, which has proven itself to be beyond all hope.

Gifts That Keep on Giving

Continuing with the general topic of All Things Christmas ...

We're all familiar with the concept of regifting ... the passing on to another of a gift someone has already given to you, generally a hideous white elephant that you didn't like or want in the first place. Think of it as a sort of recycling, while pondering the linguistic oddity that the word Gift in German means poison*.

Which brings me to today's topic, a poem by Marge Piercy titled "Gifts That Keep on Giving" ...

You know when you unwrap them:
fruitcake is notorious. There were only
51 of them baked in 1917 by the
personal chef of Rasputin. The mad monk
ate one. That was what finally killed him

But there are many more bouncers:
bowls green and purple spotted like lepers.
Vases of inept majolica in the shape
of wheezing frogs or overweight lilies.
Sweaters sized for Notre Dame's hunchback.

Hourglasses of no use humans
can devise. Gloves to fit three-toed sloths.
Mufflers of screaming plaid acrylic.
Necklaces and pins that transform
any outfit to a thrift shop reject.

Boxes of candy so stale and sticky
the bonbons pull teeth faster than
your dentist. Weird sauces bought
at warehouse sales no one will ever
taste unless suicidal or blind.

Immortal as vampires, these gifts
circulate from birthdays to Christmas,
from weddings to anniversaries.
Even if you send them to the dump,
they resurface, bobbing up on the third

day like the corpses they call floaters.
After all living have turned to dust
and ashes, in the ruins of cities
alien archeologists will judge our
civilization by these monstrous relics.

You can chew on that one ... so to speak ... when you open that fruitcake or abominable hand-knitted sweater with arms of unequal length on Christmas morning.

And speaking of monstrous relics, there's still time to cast your vote(s) for the Ass Clown of the Year award. Balloting so far is all over the place ... we have ten nominees at this point, with none of them having received more than two votes. The two-vote nominees leading the pack are The GOP, The Democratic Party, and Congress. Vote now, vote early, vote often.

Are you ready for the apocalypse? The world is ending tomorrow, so be sure your affairs are in order. If you aren't having an affair, this would be a good time to go out and start one**.

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow, assuming the Mayans were wrong.

Bilbo

* This is good to know if you're married to a German.

** If you're stupid.

Timmy Writes to Santa

I feel as if I should write something profound and erudite after the horrifying events of the past week, but I just can't do it right now. While I try to get back in touch with my inner curmudgeon, why not enjoy this Christmas season exchange of letters between Timmy and Santa, intercepted in transit by my friend Bob ...

Timmy Writes to Santa

Dear Santa,

How are you? How is Mrs. Claus? I hope everyone, from the reindeer to the elves, is fine. I have been a very good boy this year. I would like an X-Box 360 with Call of Duty IV and an iPhone 4 for Christmas. I hope you remember that come Christmas Day.

Merry Christmas,
Timmy Jones

*****

Dear Timmy,

Thank you for your letter. Mrs. Claus, the reindeer and the elves are all fine and thank you for asking about them. Santa is a little worried about all the time you spend playing video games and texting. Santa wouldn't want you to get fat. Since you have indeed been a good boy, I think I'll bring you something you can go outside and play with.

Merry Christmas,
Santa Claus

*****

Mr. Claus,

Seeing that I have fulfilled the "naughty vs. nice" contract, set by you I might add, I feel confident that you can see your way clear to granting me what I have asked for. I certainly wouldn't want to turn this joyous season into one of litigation. Also, don't you think that a jibe at my weight coming from an overweight man who goes out once a year is a bit trite?

Respectfully,
Tim Jones

*****

Mr. Jones,

While I have acknowledged you have met the "nice" criteria, need I remind you that your Christmas list is a request and in no way is it a guarantee of services provided. Should you wish to pursue legal action, that is your right. Please know, however, that my attorneys have been on retainer ever since the Burgermeister Meisterburger incident and will be more than happy to take you on in open court. Additionally, the exercise I alluded to will not only improve your health, but also improve you social skills and potentially help clear up a complexion that looks like the bottom of the Burger King fry bin most days.

Very Truly Yours,
S Claus

*****

Now look here Fat Man,

I told you what I want and I expect you to bring it. I was attempting to be polite about this but you brought my looks and my friends into this. Now you just be disrespecting me. I'm about to tweet my boys and we're gonna be waiting for your fat ass and I'm taking my game console, my game, my phone, and whatever else I want. WHATEVER I WANT, MAN!

T-Bone

*****

Listen Pizza Face,

Seriously??? You think a dude that breaks into every house in the world on one night and never gets caught sweats a skinny gangbanger wannabe? "He sees you when you're sleeping; He knows when you're awake." Sound familiar, genius? You know what kind of resources I have at my disposal. I got your crap wired, Jack. I go all around the world and see ways to hurt people that if I described them right now, you'd throw up all those bags of chips and two-liter bottles of soda you've been downing all over the carpet of your mom's basement. You're not getting what you asked for, but I'm still stopping by your crib to stomp a mud hole in your ass and then walk it dry. Chew on that, Petunia.

S Clizzy

*****

Dear Santa,

Bring me whatever you see fit. I'll appreciate anything.

Timmy

*****

Timmy,

That's what I thought, you greedy little bastard.

Santa

*****

Now I, as it happens, have been very good this past year. Just ask Agnes. Or maybe not. Forget I brought it up.

Have a good day. Be safe and love each other. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

P.S. - The voting for Ass Clown of the Year is off to a slow start this year. So far, the results indicate a tie for first place. Here's how it looks to date:

The Democratic Party - 1 vote

The GOP - 1 vote

Congress - 1 vote

People Who Don't Vote - 1 vote (my friend Vicki was pretty passionate about this one)

There's still time to cast your vote(s) for your favorite deserving Ass Clown. Balloting closes at 11:59PM on December 31^st, and the results will be announced on January 1^st, 2013. Let your voice be heard - legions of highly-paid attorneys are standing by to make sure of that while bringing the nation's business to a standstill. Or not ... I think they're too late.

B.

Age-Appropriate Christmas Tree Decoration

Continuing with our Christmas theme begun yesterday with Mama's invitation ...

If you are not a fan of Miss Cellania's blog, you should be, for this lady uncovers more funny and interesting things than anyone I know. I don't know when she sleeps. Her posts and collections of links have given me as much blog fodder as just about anyone or anything.

From her link to the wonderful website How to Be a Dad comes this topical chart which will help those of you who are parents (or grandparents) decorate your tree in a fashion appropriate to your child (or grandchild's) age. Click it to big it, as Mike would say, or visit the How to Be a Dad website to see it and other great stuff ...

Don't thank me. We're all in this together.

And did you get my Christmas present yet? Time's running out*!

Have a good day. More seasonal (or otherwise) thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

* After all, coal and sawdust will be harder to find as Christmas gets closer.

The Christmas Invitation from Mama

I got this interesting bit of holiday spirit yesterday from my friend Ken ...

Dear Family,

I'm not dead yet, and Christmas is still important to me. If being in my Last Will and Testament is important to you, then you might consider being with me for my favorite holiday.

Dinner is at 2:00. Not 2:15. Not 2:05. Two. Arrive late and you get what's left over.

Last year, that moron Marshall fried a turkey in one of those contraptions and practically burned the deck off the house. This year, the only peanut oil used to make the meal will be from the secret scoop of peanut butter I add to the carrot soup.

Jonathan, your last new wife was an idiot. You don't arrive at someone's house on Thanksgiving needing to use the oven and the stove. Honest to God I thought you might have learned after two wives - date them longer and save us all the agony of another divorce.

Now, the house rules are slightly different this year because I have decided that 47% of you don't know how to take care of nice things. Paper plates and red Solo cups might be bad for the environment, but I'll be gone soon and that will be your problem to deal with.

House Rules:

The "no cans for kids" rule still exists. We are using two-liter bottles because your children still open a third can before finishing the first two. Parents can fill a child's cup when it is empty. All of the cups have names on them and I'll be paying close attention to refills.

Chloe, last year we were at Trudy's house and I looked the other way when your Jell-O salad showed up. This year, if Jell-O salad comes in the front door it will go right back out the back door with the garbage. Save yourself some time, honey. You've never been a good cook and you shouldn't bring something that wiggles more than you. Buy something from the bakery.

Grandmothers give grandchildren cookies and candy. That is a fact of life. Your children can eat healthy at your home. At my home, they can eat whatever they like as long as they finish it.

I cook with bacon and bacon grease. That's nothing new. Your being a vegetarian doesn't change the fact that stuffing without bacon is like egg salad without eggs. Even the green bean casserole has a little bacon grease in it. That's why it tastes so good. Not eating bacon is just not natural. And as far as being healthy, look at me - I've outlived almost everyone I know.

Salad at Thanksgiving is a waste of space.

I do not like cell phones. Leave them in the car.

I do not like video cameras. There will be 32 people here. I am sure you can capture lots of memories without the camera being pointed at me.

Being a mother means you have to actually pay attention to the kids. I have nice things and I don't put them away just because company is coming over. Mary, watch your kids and I'll watch my things.

Rhonda, a cat that requires a shot twice a day is a cat that has lived too many lives. I think staying home to care for the cat is your way of letting me know that I have lived too many lives too. I can live with that. Can you?

Words mean things. I say what I mean. Let me repeat: "You don't need to bring anything" means "you don't need to bring anything." And if I did tell you to bring something, bring it in the quantity I said. Really. This doesn't have to be difficult.

Dominos and cards are better than anything that requires a battery or an on/off switch. That was true when you were kids and it's true now that you have kids.

Showing up for Thanksgiving guarantees presents at Christmas. Not showing up guarantees a card that may or may not be signed.

The election is over so I'll watch what I say and you will do the same. If we all stick to that, we'll have a good time. If not, I'll still have a good time but it will be at your expense.

In memory of your Grandfather, the back fridge will be filled with beer. Drink until it is gone. I prefer wine anyway. But one from each family needs to be the designated driver. I really mean it.

Mama

I think this may sum up Agnes and I in a few years, except for the "no salad" part ... there's no way Agnes will ever serve a major (or even a minor) meal without a salad with her homemade dressing. If you've been here for dinner, you know that.

Twelve more days until Christmas. Good luck. I'm headed back to the dentist this morning for Part 2 of my Pre-Holiday Drilling and Blasting Extravaganza, so I'm likely to be a mite grouchy this afternoon. It's not personal. Just leave me alone and come back tomorrow, when I stop drooling.

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

Christmas Planning

Every year about this time I get into the pre-Christmas-gotta-get-all-this-stuff-done mode. And I usually get-all-this-stuff-done, but not always on time and not always within budget. Here's how things are shaping up at the start of this first full week in December, with only about three weeks until Christmas ...

1. The Christmas tree is up and decorated, and the holiday decorations are up all over the house. This year we succumbed to the ultimate holiday short-cut: we bought a 7.5-foot pre-lit tree. It weighs about 8,000 pounds, comes in three pieces, and fits together neatly with two electrical connections between the three sections. It took me about 15 minutes to put up, as opposed to our old tree that consisted of about 275,000,000 color-coded branches of various sizes that slotted into two major trunk sections, also color coded*, had to be strung with six hopelessly-tangled strands of lights, large numbers of which petulantly refused to light each year, and took all day to complete. The new tree is much easier and is very attractive. Come back after Christmas when I have to get it back into the box, and we'll see how much I like it then.

2. My annual Christmas letter to friends is written. You may recall that my custom is to write one master letter which goes to my friend Toni in North Carolina, who always wants to know everything. I then edit the master letter to send to our other friends, depending on what they would be interested in knowing. The pile of edited letters is getting bigger, and I plan to be able to get them all in the mail by the end of the week.

3. I haven't started addressing Christmas cards yet, but it will go fast once I get going.

4. Christmas shopping for the grandchildren is nearly complete ... only one more gift to go. Since we now have to ship things overseas to the Munchkins in Germany, I need to get those packages out soon.

5. I'm still asking Agnes for her Christmas wish lists. Yes, lists. I always need two: one of the things she wants, and a shorter version that lists the things she wants that I can afford. My friend Helen, the self-appointed Gift Appropriateness Overseer, has already asked her traditional question of whether I have bought Agnes something expensive and sparkly**.

6. I have completed my traditional shredding of the envelope helpfully provided by my newspaper delivery person for the awarding of holiday tips. When the year comes that my paper is actually delivered on time (that is, before I leave for work), I'll leave a tip. Yes, I'm being Scroogy on this. Sue me.

So, ho-ho-ho. I'm more or less on track for the holidays. How about you? Break out the egg nog, hang up the mistletoe, and send the lumps of coal and bags of sawdust to your favorite member of Congress*** ... Christmas is just three weeks from tomorrow.

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

* As you may know, my color vision is a bit wonky, and Agnes had to sort out all the color-coded branches and tell me where each fit into the trunk.

** One year, I bought Agnes a very expensive computer program she wanted. Helen was horrified: "You bought Agnes zeroes and ones for Christmas??!!"

*** Forget your disgust with their non-performance for a while and send an appropriate gift to your GOP Scrooge or your Democratic Santa.

Snow Jobs

No, today I'm not talking about the ones that Congress foists off on us all the time...I'm talking about the one that's headed our way from the west.

Yes, a mighty winter storm has dumped 42 inches of snow on Alpine Meadows, California, near Lake Tahoe, and a foot of snow was forecast to fall in parts of Iowa and in Minneapolis. That's a lot of snow. In Chicago, more than 300 flights were canceled at O'Hare International Airport, which is a good reason to fly via Atlanta and other southern airports during the winter.

Yep, winter's on the way.

Yesterday, Amanda put up a clever post that reminded us here in the northern hemisphere that the Christmas season is in the middle of summer in Australia...she notes that "I'm used to watching movies on TV and listening to Christmas songs about snow, warm fires and the cold while sweating in my tank tops," and included an Australian version of "Jingle Bells." Check it out.

I had the Warm Christmas experience many years ago when I was living in Shreveport, Louisiana - there were years when we sat in the front yard in shorts and t-shirts on Christmas Eve...and somehow it just didn't seem right. That was also the place where the local kids scammed newcomers by selling us big bunches of mistletoe...before we learned that it grew on every tree.

But now, here I sit in Northern Virginia. Outside my study window the rain is pouring down and the snow is expected to arrive this weekend. By the time it gets here, we probably won't get much actual snow, but that's okay - snow is pretty while it's falling and looks beautiful as it blankets the world in soft white billows, but it's a pain in the gazootie if you have to drive in it, and you don't need to shovel rain.

Nevertheless, "I'm Dreamin' of a Wet Christmas" doesn't have quite the right holiday ring to it.

So, I guess we'll take what we get. My snow shovels and my bags of ice-melting crystals are ready, the propane tank that fuels the fireplace is full, we have lots of DVDs and 784,000 channels of cable TV to watch, and the pantry and freezer have plenty of supplies to carry us through a few days of being snowed in.

As opposed to being snowed under. That's Congress's job, and they're good at it.

At least they're good at something.

Have a good day. Stay warm and dry. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

People NOT on my Christmas Gift List

With the economy being the way it is, I've been looking for ways to cut back on expenses. Sadly, one way I'm cutting back is by slashing the list of people who can expect Christmas gifts for me. As of today, the list includes:

1. All Members of Congress, of either party (although I have asked Santa, in the spirit of the season, to compensate by giving all of them extra rations of coal and sawdust in their Christmas stockings).

2. All TV and Radio talking heads. If you know so darned much, stop talking and fix things.

3. The person who invented the automated voice-answering system that you have to deal with before you can talk to a real person. Who is probably in Ouagadougou, anyhow.

4. Companies who outsource their telephone service lines to places where nobody speaks English:

Bilbo: "I'd like to speak with someone about this month's statement."

"Customer Service" Person: "Gushbaga wallim shabasdoopoo?"

Bilbo: "Never mind."

5. Morons who still haven't figured out that it's dangerous to talk on your cell phone while you drive ... particularly when you hold the phone to your left ear with your right hand so you can refer to whatever is lying on the seat next to you.

6. The programmer at Yahoo Mail who devised the lines of code that randomly: (1) fail to notify me of comments posted to my blog; or, (2) put comment notification messages in the spam file rather than the inbox.

7. Spammers who post bogus comments to my blog.

8. People who collect for charities by accosting you in your car while you're stopped at intersections (I'm specifically thinking of the firefighters who want you to "fill the boot" with money over the Labor Day weekend).

9. Hugo Chavez and Mahmoud Ahmedinejad.

10. Whoever came up with the dumb idea of making Christmas politically correct by calling it "the sparkle season," "the winter solstice," or some other stupid name. It's Christmas. It means something. Get over it.

Okay, the list goes on, but you get the idea. If you haven't yet received your Christmas gift, don't worry...it's in the mail. Trust me.

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo