Merry Christmas, everybody!
OK, it's not politically correct. Happy Holidays is politically correct. But then, I'm not politically correct. Stats say 80% of the U.S. is Christian. That means I'm in the majority, and last time I checked, majority rules. Even if it didn't, I'm a Christian and proud of it.
I have a lot to apologize for, but that's not on the list.
'Tis the season. In Iraq, Santa is making the rounds wearing a bullet-proof vest and packin' heat. Who'd ever have thought Santa would have to travel with weapons?
Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus--and he's armed and dangerous.Don't let him catch you being naughty. There's a stiff penalty for being naughty.
In New Zealand, a bunch of drunken Santas invaded a cineplex. Drunken Santas? Wow...it's so hard to get good help these days.
Normally, I try to be done with everything long before the Big Day because I detest crowds and insanity (except my own, of course), but yesterday, I not only ventured out into the last-minute chaos, I was oblivious to it. I had my trusty MP3 player with me, so all was well.
Music really does soothe the savage beast. I'm living proof of that.
First stop: the bank, to make a deposit. We've been with the same bank for something like eighteen years, through numerous mergers and name changes. I've been there longer than most of the personnel. At the teller window (I don't think they call 'em teller cages anymore, though at times they probably should), Pat is smiling. She's got good reason to smile: a holiday falling on a Saturday. At least banks employees will get that half day--and the Sunday after. She's surprised to see me out and about.
"I'm going to get my turkey," I mentioned.
She didn't miss a beat. "I thought he was at work," she deadpanned, referring to Collin, not the edible turkey awaiting me at Dierbergs' deli.
I laughed like a looney tune. Couldn't help it. That was a good line. Wish I'd thought of it.
Last year, we had a pre-fab (OK, pre-cooked) turkey. My son, the aspiring chef, had no intention of preparing the Christmas dinner. (Did I mention this before? Or maybe I only mentioned it repeatedly to HIM.) He worked all week at the restaurant and had no interest in cooking on his one and only day off. So with our pre-cooked bird, instant sides and my aversion to cooking anything other than in a microwave, dinner was ready in a record 30 minutes.
Hey, I have better things to do on Christmas Day than cook.