Nov 28 2008


Aaaargh, OOoooh, Umpf,


GlugGlug, Gurgle, Gobble,


FaLaLaLaLa, Hiccup, Yum,




     Well, a little digest-yesterday’s-turkey-soccer-game today with my son-in-law, my all-state soccer star nephew, my travel team soccer star grandson and my two soccer-player grandaughters reminded me about the notion of time slippage (funny, I would have sworn I was hitting my late teens before the game started as surely as I felt 95 by the time we finished –10 to 8 final score), and the need to eat less next year!

Have you ever seen a beaver wearing glasses? 

      As for sounds of the season, btw (thumb-basher-text-messaging-shorthand for “by the way”), by the way, I’m really not a bah-humbug guy; in fact, I LOVE Christmas, BUT I TRULY HATE Christmas music and commercials that start before Halloween, and that steamroller over Thanksgiving like it was Ground Hog’s Day. 

     What in the world makes retailers think they will make more money if they advertise earlier? Right-o, jolly-good, and all that.  Of course I’ll just dig deeper in my wallet and start pulling out all those sequestered thousand dollar bills to spend on gifts because all that wonderful, exilarating advertising is reaching me earlier this year!

     Oh, yeah, and all those blessed charitable moods that start to kick in about now . . . you know, the ones that are sabotaged by print, broadcast, online and direct mail requests for my hard-earned dollars that came by way of hard-working wage-earning needy neighbors right here in my community.   

     Well, la-de-dah, now I’m supposed to pile up those hard-earned dollars and kiss them goodbye (along with my needy neighbors!), and immediately wire my money half-way around the planet to such needy causes as the NFACLISSYBB (Nonprofit Foundation for the Astigmatic Correctional Lens Implants of Speckle-Spotted, Yellow-Bellied Beavers).

     Of course, with some tenacious googling, I might find that these poor, afflicted beavers are critically essential (like cones and cups are to ice cream) to nocturnal pigmies in the Outback who rely on them for nighttime navigation when the moon is not full . . . because numerous pigmies will undoubtedly wander about aimlessly through the night, midst crocodiles, snakes and wild boars without beaver beacons to guide them.  I mean have you ever seen a beaver wearing glasses or contact lenses?

     So present-wise, what’s a person to do?  Do you go for these needy charities and hope your relatives and friends will understand and appreciate the potential tax deduction possibilities? 

     OR, does one, for example, spring for the $400 electronic book reader as a potentially emancipating Christmas gift accompanied by expressions of your seasonal hopes and prayers for cousin Billy Bob (whose idea of a book is something he was told that the judge once threw at him when he was brought in on a DUI charge for riding a large senior citizen tricycle . . . yes, of course one with a tall antenna brandishing a bright orange pennant . . . for cutting across the 20-something lane plaza at the foot of the Driscoll Bridge on New Jersey’s infamous Garden State Parkway at morning rush hour when the 65 mph speed limit goes to 387 mph (350 mph if roads are wet!) OR, do you just get him the antique Arthur Godfrey ukulele he fawns over at the corner pawn shop?

     Such a quandary!  Oh, and to the sounds of the season list, add:

Y  I  K  E  S  !               


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