HOLIDAY

My bizarre take on a strange holiday tradition has produced magical dancing light.




p.s. may all of yours be merry and bright.

What can I give her that she doesn't already have?

I recently received a text message from a very good friend:

“You watch grinch? What the fuck are they singing?”

I replied:

“Been a while: Ah-boo-doe-ray, Ah-boo-doe-ray. Or something like that. But what I really wanna know is why santa is such a dick to rudolph.”

This was my friends reply:

“Donner a dick too.”

And because I can’t let anything go without an overdone, unnecessary, crack-pot analysis, I replied again:

“Yeah, what up with that. Nice message to send kids…youre different and I dont like you, so fuck you until I need you to pull my sleigh. Then I like you. Santa almost push rudolph over the edge.”

My friend was probably thinking "Why did I even ask?"

But, yeah Santa is pretty much a dick to Rudolph. I believe he says something to the effect of "Pity, and he had potential, too.” And my friend was right, Donner was a dick. Desperate to prove himself a worthy sperm donor, he makes Rudolph cover up his depreciatory genetic mutation. Explaining to his son that there are more important things in life than comfort, like self-respect.

The message: If you don't fit in, you aren't worth shit. So suck it up until you either fit in or someone needs you for something.

And then everyone tries to take it back and pin the "reindeer of the year" award on Rudolph. Kids have to see through that.

(Clarice knew what was up, though. Right from the beginning she knew Rudolph was the shit.)

So, I say to Santa and the rest of the fuckers in this world...just because someone doesn’t fit your image of what “a something” should be you think that they are incapable? Not worthy? Without feelings?

"Just wait, and watch your back."





And, of course I had to look that shit up, so here it is:

Welcome Christmas

Fah who for-aze!
Dah who dor-aze!
Welcome Christmas,
Come this way!

Fah who for-aze!
Dah who dor-aze!
Welcome Christmas,
Christmas Day.

Welcome, Welcome
Fah who rah-moose
Welcome, Welcome
Dah who dah-moose
Christmas day is in our grasp
So long as we have hands to clasp

Fah who for-aze!
Dah who dor-aze!
Welcome, welcome Christmas
Welcome, welcome Christmas
Day


Copyright © 1957, Dr. Seuss.
http://www.seuss.org/seuss/welcome.xmas.html




p.s. a lifetime supply of it.



(poke)

What would you have me say?

Ah, the extraordinary from which I glean substance.



Aviva

In two months time, they had already taken half of your leg. And, your decision to give your eyes had been made, all the arrangements confirmed.

Your veins carried the bits and pieces of your death. Broken off from the center of your gut and pumped through your body by your two-timing heart. The debris collected in the narrows to strangle your extremities. Passageways filled and clogged. Backing up, they would finally find their way to your heart which, by that time, would be too exhausted to push any further.

You were one minute shivering with cold, the next ripping with heat. The cold hand towel placed on your forehead and the morphine on demand were your only physical relief. But the tricks that chemical played on your mind, bringing ghosts to your bedside, became your greatest emotional comfort. You claimed “She’s standing right there.” Obviously, no one else could see her she had been dead for ten years. But eavesdropping on your conversations provided insight into your fear.

"I just want to know why."

"I know, but I'm just not ready yet and I don’t want to be afraid."

"Because I don't want it to end."

While in reality, he stood tirelessly by your side. Always ready for whatever you needed, and there was never a hint of frustration, never a moment that could have been construed as forced. He was in no way put out as he took over some of the nurse’s duties relieving you of any more embarrassment. All for the things he already knew. It was his most selfless act, but at the same time provided him relief from deadful thoughts. Without question or consideration, he cared for you, cleaned you, changed your clothes, your catheter, the colostomy.

Because it was all he could do.

Along with that came the visitors, myself included, each lost in their attempts to find meaning in what seemed incomprehensible. They stumbled to find the right words to reply to your pleas of "I don't want to die." Wanting to ease your pain and take your mind off of death, they attempted small talk. When all you really wanted was someone to agree with you, take your hand and say "I know and I don't want you to die, either."

The swift destruction was overwhelming. All the poison they pumped into you, and the painful, awkward experimental treatments, failed. You had been through enough.

Then finally, “Let me bring her home.”

They delivered your hospital bed the day before you died. I know because I was there, for both. It remained by the large bedroom window, unmade and unused, for several weeks. It sat to reinforce the loss.






p.s. there is a time and a place for everything and that is neither.