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.

Is Santa Really a Man?

First things first: the NRA has finally come up voice on the horrible murders at the Sandy Hook Elementary School. A statement posted on their website says in part, "The NRA is prepared to offer meaningful contributions to help make sure this never happens again."

You'll pardon me if, based on the NRA's past behavior, I take that with ...

But we need some humor to help get through this terrible time ... so here it is, courtesy of my friend Bob:

Is Santa Really a Man?

I think Santa Claus is a woman. I hate to be the one to defy sacred myth, but I believe he is actually a she. 

Think about it ... Christmas is a big, organized, warm, fuzzy, nurturing social deal, and I have a tough time believing a guy could possibly pull it all off.

For starters, the vast majority of men don't even think about selecting gifts until Christmas Eve. Once at the mall, they always seem surprised to find only Ronco products, socket wrench sets and mood rings left on the shelves. On this count alone, I'm convinced Santa is a woman.

Surely if Santa were a man, everyone in the universe would wake up Christmas morning to find a rotating musical Chia Pet under the tree, still in the bag.

Another problem for a he-Santa would be getting there. First of all, there would be no reindeer because they would all be dead, gutted and strapped on to the rear bumper of the sleigh amid wide-eyed desperate claims that buck season had been extended. Blitzen's rack would already be on the way to the taxidermist.

Even if the male Santa did have reindeer, he'd still have transportation problems because he would inevitably get lost up there in the snow and clouds and then refuse to stop and ask for directions.

Other reasons Santa can't possibly be a man:

Men can't pack a bag.

Men would rather be dead than caught wearing red velvet.

Men would feel their masculinity is threatened by being seen with all those elves.

Men don't answer their mail.

Men would refuse to allow their physique to be described, even in jest, as anything remotely resembling "a bowlful of jelly."

Men aren't interested in stockings unless a woman is wearing them.

Having to do the "Ho, Ho, Ho" thing would seriously inhibit their ability to pick up women.

Milk and cookies left out by the fireplace? A man would demand beer and beef jerky.

Finally, being responsible for Christmas would require a commitment.

Now, I can believe that some other mythical holiday characters are men ...

Father Time shows up once a year unshaven and looking ominous. Clearly a guy.

Cupid flies around carrying weapons.

And Uncle Sam is a politician who likes to point fingers ...

Any one of these individuals could get a man card. But not St. Nick. Not a chance.

So ...

Sorry to burst your bubble, but it looks true to me. What do you think? Leave a comment.

Less than a week until Christmas - better get moving on those cards and decorations.

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

The Eye of the Beholder, Revisited

What makes a woman beautiful? The answer to that question varies with the man (or lady) who answers ... hence the old adage that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. I've written on this topic, which I find fascinating, at least three times ... if you want to go back and check them out, here are the links: "The Eye of the Beholder ... and the Beholdee;"  "The Eye of the Beholder;" and "Sonntagsgesicht."

I thought about the whole eye of the beholder thing again yesterday when I followed a link trail to this article in Men's Health magazine: 11 Qualities of the Perfect Woman. According to the article, the eleven qualities that combine to make up the perfect woman are (I'm paraphrasing just a bit and - of course - adding my comments):

1. Laughs at your jokes (or in Agnes's case, groans at my jokes);

2. Is two to four years younger than you are (Mrs Robinson was evidently not typical);

3. A nice smile (yes!!);

4. Big breasts (now that's a shocking revelation, isn't it?);

5. Long legs (tall ladies are sexy, even if sometimes a challenge to dance with);

6. Her own career and money (although the stereotype is of the gold-digger on the lookout for a sugar daddy, the evidence seems to indicate that many men like a woman who can contribute financially to the long-term relationship);

7. Small feet (considered to be more feminine and attractive);

8. Well-educated (contrary to popular stereotype, men generally don't prefer dumb ladies);

9. Wears red (much research shows that men are attracted to the color red ... which is why red clothing, lipstick, nail polish, etc, tend to be big sellers. I read somewhere that this is because of a fixation on the color of healthy female ... uh ... nether parts ... for a longer discussion of this point, see my post from April 18th of this year: The Eye - and Nose - of the Beholder);

10. Narrow hips (oddly enough, in many cultures men seem to prefer broad hips because they supposedly indicate good child-bearing potential);

11. Brown hair (I was always partial to women with dark hair ... black especially, but also shades of brown ... which is, of course, why I married a redhead. Go figure).

So, Dear Readers, what do you think contributes to the ideal member of the opposite sex? Inquiring minds want to know, so leave a comment.

And ladies, I love you all, no matter how many of the eleven qualities you have (or don't). As Jean Kerr once said, "I'm tired of all this nonsense about beauty being skin deep. That's deep enough. What do you want, an adorable pancreas?"

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

Not Much More to Say

The horrendous tragedy of the massacre of innocent children at the Sandy Hook Elementary School in Connecticut last week has generated the usual outpouring of horror and outrage over the availability of high-powered military grade weapons with high-capacity magazines to ordinary citizens. Everywhere except at the National Rifle Association, of course, where the NRA website features only a Wayne LaPierre editorial from November 27^th crowing that more guns have led to less crime in Virginia.

Too bad about Connecticut.

And, of course, a tragedy like this brings out the despicable morons of the Westboro Baptist Church, who have announced plans to picket the funerals of the Sandy Hook victims.

People more passionate and erudite than I have already written more - and better - about this ghastly event than I can. Duckbutt had a marvelous post on his blog last Friday, and commentator Petula Dvorak published an excellent opinion piece in the Washington Post, in which she wrote,

The 20 young children gunned down inside Sandy Hook Elementary School on Friday were swaddled in federally regulated, fire-retardant blankets, rode in elaborate car seats plastered with safety stickers, and learned to ride bikes with elbow pads, knee guards and safety helmets. Some of them may never have had a Twinkie pass their lips. Cribs, bouncy seats, cough medicine, scooters, sugary snacks — we have no problem regulating the life out of those. But how do we keep our children safe in their kindergarten classrooms when we live in a culture that has persuaded itself to accept guns?

There are also the usual editorial cartoons, some of them banal and many of them devastatingly ... if I can be forgiven for using the expression ... on target. This was one of the best ...

And this one goes back a few years to yet another mass murder, but is still every bit as accurate as when Tom Toles first drew it ...

Despite all the horror and outrage, nothing will happen. Public figures will give pious speeches, memorials will be held, editorials will be written, the Westboro Baptist Church will act stupidly intolerant, and the dedicated partisans of the gun lobby will continue to chant their mantra that guns don't kill people, people kill people ... neglecting to mention that people can kill far more people, faster and more efficiently, with guns.

I can't really say anything else about this, but others will.

And nothing will be done, which is the real tragedy.

My heart goes out to the families of the murdered children and their teachers. My complete and utter contempt goes out to those who willfully ignore the lessons of this terrible event.

Have a good day. Love each other. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

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.

Cartoon Saturday

It's been an awful week ...

An individual massacred nearly 30 people, including 20 children between the ages of five and ten, at an elementary school in Connecticut*; international basket case North Korea took a major step toward resolving the malnourishment of its population by launching a satellite into orbit; in Oregon, an individual shot and killed two people and seriously wounded a third during a murderous rampage in a shopping mall**; 22 children were injured, some seriously, in a Chinese primary school by a man wielding a knife***; and US ambassador to the United Nations Susan Rice withdrew herself from consideration for the position of Secretary of State because of intense Republican opposition to the possibility of her nomination.

I think that the Christmas spirit for this year will probably need to come from a bottle. Let's get to the cartoons right away ... if there was ever a week we needed them, this is it.

There's been a great deal of debate here in Northern Virginia about what sort of winter we can expect, and the opinions of the meteorological prognosticators are mixed ... some predict a bad winter of cold temperatures and heavy snow, while others predict a more mild winter with little snow. Who knows? But for those wanting snow (yes, Marilyn, I'm talking to you), how about a collection of cartoons about snowmen? Here we go ...

This cartoon was provided by my nephew Ed ...

I've heard the same thing, but I think he may be approaching it the wrong way ...

Gives a whole new twist to the term frigid, doesn't it? ...

Even snowmen can suffer from the occasional social faux pas ...

Some people just won't be missed ...

I thought this one was pretty clever ...

CSI: North Pole? ...

Frosty goes to the optometrist ...

This one provides a clever twist on the snowman stereotype ...

And finally for today, it's very important to select the right gift for the right person ...

And that's it for today's edition of Cartoon Saturday. Later this morning Agnes and I will put on our body armor and head to the mall to finish our Christmas shopping for the grandchildren, and I plan to make my molasses-brushed, sausage-stuffed acorn squash for supper. Just another pre-holiday weekend in the realm of Bilbo.

And speaking of the realm of Bilbo, Peter Jackson's first film of his trilogy based on JRR Tolkien's The Hobbit opened yesterday. Most of the reviews have been pretty yucky, but what do reviewers know? I'll be putting on my body armor and heading to the theater as soon as the crowds die down. We Bilbos have to stick together, after all.

Have a good day and a great weekend. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

* I will refrain from saying anything about the need for a serious discussion of gun control, because there is no chance in hell of having a serious discussion of gun control.

** See above.

*** This story will no doubt be cited as evidence proving that people can kill other people without using guns. Where I come from, this is called stupid.

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

As If You Didn't Have Enough to Worry About ...

From my friend Katherine comes this New York Times story: A Dark and Itchy Night. If you enjoy reading in bed, you may want to just stop here and come back tomorrow.

It seems that there is a new twist to the proliferation of bedbugs, those nasty little critters that were once thought to be limited to sleazy, skid row hotels and inns in remote parts of the world. Bedbugs are now finding a new home in the bindings of books that people read in bed ... and when those books are borrowed from the local library, they go home with the next person to check out the book ... and when they read in bed, well, you can guess the rest.

AAARRRGGGHHH!!!

As do many of you, Dear Readers, I love to read. But books are expensive, and so I buy far fewer of them than I used to ... generally, only the nonfiction titles that I'm likely to want in my collection to read multiple times or to use for research. Most fiction titles, other than those of my most favorite authors, I usually check out of the local library. And I occasionally enjoy reading a sentence or two in bed before the old Sandman dumps on me.

And now I find that my beloved library books can bring BEDBUGS!!??

Oy.

The article describes the processes that today's librarians must use to check incoming books for the presence of bedbugs, and the technologies they must use to kill off the hitchhiking little nasties, such as the PackTite Portable Bedbug Heater (on sale for $305), the Thermal Strike Expedition Heat Treatment Box (on sale for $179), or keeping infested books in a freezer for a week at -18 degrees Farenheit*.

At a time when libraries are suffering from budget cutbacks that limit book purchases and slash hours of operation, it's a shame that limited funds have to be spent to eliminate - of all stupid things - bedbugs. We like to encourage bookworms, but bedbugs ... not so much.

So ...

The next time you check out a book from the local library, check the binding for the presence of bedbugs. Or consider checking out e-books, if your library offers that service.

Of course, the next thing will probably be viruses that infest your e-reader, but what can you do?

Have a good day. Enjoy a new library book the next time you get an ... uh ... itch to read. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

* The last one leaves me a bit cold.

Purging Your Vocabulary

Tired of some words and phrases? Me, too. And so is the author of this article from Top Ten Reviews: Purge Your Vocabulary: Five Words That Should Disappear From Your Lexicon.

The five words suggested by the article are:

Literally. The article notes that people use the word literally to emphasize a point or exaggerate strong feelings rather than to speak of actual - literal - events.

Synergy. From the article: "Literally*, synergy is a group of elements working together to create something greater than their sum. However, if you asked a panel of CEOs to define "synergy," nine out of ten wouldn't know how, and would eventually have to admit that they put it on their company's webpage because it sounds impressive." Don't use words you don't understand.

Viral. Unless it refers to an infection, don't use it. I've never understood why something "goes viral," anyhow.

Dynamic. Again quoting from the article: "When a company describes itself as "dynamic and exciting," this implies that the company is unstable, because dynamic means constant change. Describing yourself as dynamic on a résumé may look flashy, but it essentially only says that you know how to use a thesaurus.

Like. "Like has become the all-purpose filler word when we have nothing else to say. This epidemic is no longer limited to valley girls; it has spread to almost every verbal conversation in America and, like, it needs to stop, okay."

Yes, I can see a real need to purge these once useful words from your vocabulary. There are other words and phrases that need to go, too:

Fiscal Cliff. Is it a cliff? A slope? Just a big bluff, ha, ha? Economists can't agree**. It's the fiscal equivalent of the boogeyman under the bed, useful for politicians to scare you into poor decisions.

Filibuster. Yak, yak, yak. It's all Congress does, anyhow. Drop the word.

Compromise. Just drop it. It's not being used, anyhow.

What words do you think should be purged from our vocabularies? Leave a comment. Who knows? If it's dynamic enough, it might, like, go viral ... literally! And wouldn't that be synergistic?

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

* Used here correctly!

** And this should surprise you exactly how?