So January of 2018 came in like a polar bear. At least it wasn’t an Abominable Snowman.
NOTE: I’ve run this column for years as my last column before Christmas, and I see no reason to change now. True, a lot of changes have taken place in my life since the first time this column appeared. Shucks, I’ve even retired. But I think it still works. Besides, some folks have actually told me they look forward to it. As for others, I wish them a merry bah and a happy humbug.
So, how goes it? How are the reindeer? Are they magic like you? Or will any of them be retiring soon? I mean, it’s been almost 200 years since they were introduced. Does Rudolph’s nose ever need recharging? Is Mrs. Claus keeping you well-fed?
I wrote recently that the main things I dislike about Christmas are the things that make people heave a sigh of relief on the evening of Dec. 25, and say, “Thank goodness it’s over.”
The tree is up at Scrooge’s house. This is what happens when Scrooge marries a Christmas nut.
I used to look forward to Thanksgiving for a reason not many people have. While I worked at the Times-Herald, we didn’t publish on that holiday, and since my column came out on Thursday, I was off the hook for that week.
So there I was, looking at myself – really looking at myself – for the first time in a while. I couldn’t joke it away by saying, “Who’s that old fat guy?” It was me, looking back out at myself from a mirror.
It was right after Halloween. I was half-watching a TV show, when I heard someone announce that Halloween marks the beginning of the Eating Season.
This happens twice every year, and twice every year I rail against it. But the Time Cops keep winning. I’m speaking, of course, of the upcoming time change.
This is my last column before Halloween, and I suppose I do have a bit of good news: Seems my bum knee is coming around sufficiently to allow me to hand out candy on the big night.