Pail Christmas
Sometimes ya gotta be yule to be kind
’Tis the time of the year when I like to take a breather from our usual subject matter (mayhem, madness, de-weinerfication) & reflect on the holiday season. Y’know: look deep into the cobwebbiest corners of my soul (one year I even found a pair of mittens I thought were lost for good) & contemplate my place in the universe. The holidays just get to me, I guess.
Why, looking out my limousine window at this v. moment, I see hardluck orphans gathered ’round a roaring bonfire. (Damnitall, the driver must be taking another one of his "scenic routes" – if I’ve told him once, I’ve told him thrice: plucky urchins depress the hell outta me. No bonus for him, I’m afraid, "single father of twelve" or not.) Looking out the other window, quickly, I see carollers spreading musical cheer outside the earplug factory. Looking back out the first window, I still see those raggedy orphans, and now they’re making "angels" in yellow snow, the filthy li’l curs. Probably drunk. Looking ahead, I see that my driver needs new glasses, as a Sally-Ann Santa bounces off the hood & rolls to a stop near a telephone pole. Looking out the rear window, I see the orphans scrambling for Santa’s spilled coins. Now I see the carollers joining in, too. Now I see one of the orphans wearing Santa’s hat & dancing a look-at-me-I’m-Santa-Claus jig. Now I see flashing lights. Now I hear sirens. Now I see the orphans & carollers scattering like cockroaches. Now I tap on the glass & tell the driver to step on it.
Ah, ’tis the season.
Of all the season’s wonders (goodwill, snowflakes, Santa’s crumpled form slowly lifting itself onto one elbow), my most favouritest would have to be the Yule Log. The obvious selling pt. is the name, which lends itself to all those crowdpleasing "yule" puns. Like, for e.g., "Go easy on the liquor at this year’s office party or... yule be sorry!" Man, that’s a good one. (Multicultural variation for our friends celebrating Ramadan: "or...yule be sari." Also a good one.)
The best, most heartwarming Yule Log tale I’ve heard this year involves a construction site in Gh_n_. It seems a generous worker was literally caught w/ his pants down, hunkered over a communal drinking-water bucket – into which he was squeezing his v. own Yule Log. The man claimed it was a one-time only affair (diarrhea, he sez, caught him unawares), but co-workers testified that Not-So-Secret Santa regularly "gifted" into their drinking-water bucket. (From a legal standpoint, it’s interesting to note they used the term "our drinking-water bucket," rather than "that filthy thing that used to be our drinking-water bucket.") The defendant's attorney played the "pity card," telling the jury that his impoverished client "doesn’t have a pot to piss in," which everyone knew just wasn’t true. The attorney had better luck w/ his "Better To Give Than Receive" defence, which didn’t get any arguments. In fact, it looked like Ol’ Red Cheeks was going to get off scot free, until he blew it all by tricking the bailiff into drinking wee-wee. So now it’s prison for the holidays.
Meanwhile, several thousand miles away, 10 cooks spent 4 days/5 nights making what they believe to be the World’s Largest Nougat Bar. The Yule Log-shaped confection is 30-feet long, and big enough to satisfy either 100,000 chocolate lovers or one glutton.
"Everyone’s been, like, so totally supportive," said an unnamed nougat-maker-person. "Complete strangers stopped by w/ sugar, other people donated pounds & pounds of almonds. And chocolate by the truckload! It’s really brought out true community spirit. Everyone’s doing whatever they can to pitch in. Heck, some construction workers even traveled several thousand miles just to donate this nifty mixing bucket.
"I just love the holidays!"
Me too, my man. Me too. |
