Tis The Season

Whew! It's December 27th. You know what that means...no more Christmas music for about 11 months. It means Karen Carpenter and Burl Ives go back in the box (no pun intended) (okay, a little pun intended). It means the Jingle Bell dogs and Alvin and the Chipmunks are done for the year.
I love this time of year...you know, when this whole mess is over. For someone, like myself, who loves dreary, sunless days, and who scans the TV for the bad news, this is a great time of year. By noon this past Sunday, I'm guessing families all around the world were disappointed and angry. The kids didn't get what they wanted. The grown-ups didn't get what they wanted. And, if it was something they wanted, it probably doesn't work right, or there's a piece missing.
How heartwarming it is for a parent to spend hundreds of dollars on toys, and then hear the kids say, "Is that all there is." And, that hundred dollar toy is sitting under the tree, while the kid plays with the box it came in. I love it. Within the next few days the credit card bills start coming in. That's another seasonal, after-Christmas treat.
And, any marriages that didn't hit the rocks due to a little too much egg nog and mistletoe at the Christmas parties, will take an even bigger hit at the New Year's Eve parties. When you consider the hedonistic manner in which the New Year is celebrated, it almost makes Christmas look like a religious holiday. Isn't it amazing how holy this holiday season really is?
You know, if my friends threw me a birthday party (which they don't), and then brought everyone BUT me gifts, and then came to the party and engaged in all sorts of conduct that I hated, I have a feeling I'd be a little peeved. I guess the celebrants feel Jesus is more tolerant than I.
This really is the hap-happiest time of the year...for me. It means I can go back to the malls without being mauled by, what seems to be an endless supply of, huge women in spandex tights fighting over bins of merchandise. It means I don't have to have a bell rung in my ear everytime I enter K-Mart. It means I can drive down Parham Road without waiting in five-mile traffic jams heading to Regency Square. This really is my season to be jolly.
Starting next week, and for several months thereafter, people will really be going to work every day, and some days, even doing some work. From Thanksgiving through the end of the year, for many folks, it's like one long vacation. I wonder just how much of a hit the nation's economy takes during the holiday season.
Go ahead, call me Scrooge. I like Scrooge. I like the sound of the name. I like the way it feels in your mouth when you say it. Try it. The "SKR" sound is rather fun to make. Scrooge's only problem was he didn't have the strength of his convictions. Just once, I'd love to see him grab Tiny Tim's tiny little crutch and pound the tiny little brat over his tiny little head.
You see, I'm not such a bad guy. I enjoy myself. I have fun. I just don't happen to enjoy the last month of the year. Well, I gotta go do some shopping. It's already December 27th. I only have a couple more days before the Easter decorations go up.