It's that time of year isn't it? It's that time of year when the snarky me takes a wee nap and tries, for a moment or two at least, to revel in the season.
I'm a sucker for the Salvation Army Bell Ringers. Man, I just love those people. Outside, bitter cold, ringing a bell in hopes of some spare change for those less fortunate. I never have change on me, except this time of year - for just this purpose. Some jackass told me the other day that an amazingly large number of Bell Ringers actually steal the money for themselves. Oh - cheer the fuck up (sorry, some of my family members may not be aware that I swear...a lot) - but come on! Even if there are cases of Bell Ringers gone wild - that is not the spirit of which I speak. They are outside, in the cold, ringing a bell - I love these people.
The infinite patience of store clerks. I cannot imagine the life of the average store clerk - but I would wish a thousand paper cuts before I would wish to be one during the holidays. For all our gift giving - shoppers are the stingiest bastards on the planet. Damn it if we don't get the extra .002% off because we got in line before 6a.m. Each of these people deserves to be driving a Mercedes for all the crap they put up with.
Christmas sweater-wearers. God bless them. Me, well, I'm a jerk and I only wear holiday sweaters to mocking events like the Sweater and Turtleneck party at a local bar. Where, yes, the point is the find the most disgusting sweater and flaunt it. But the true-of-heart Christmas sweater-wearers - they love the holidays, or they were given one by their 3rd grade class or they know they are going to see the great-aunt who knitted it for them. Either way, they will one day earn a place in heaven for their earnest couture.
Which leads me, naturally, to all those who don the Santa cap. Yes, they are horrible hats. But when worn with the true spirit or after six of Uncle Chet's "special" punches - it is endearing and wholesome. What happens after the seventh glass of punch - not so wholesome.
And finally - I am forever enamored by the purchasers of the Chia Pet and The Clapper. There isn't much to say about these individuals except to say - they believe in the power of unwrapping the most unmitigated pile of crap. Crap, when purchased in the spirit of the season, is beautiful and wonderful and not at all identifiable as crap. God bless these innocents and God bless The Clapper!
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2 comments:
God bless the Clapper. After all these years, you still make me laugh.
Some of your family members don't know you swear? That reminds me of a heart warming story about the last time I tried to get my daughters to stop swearing. You'll like it. Ask me to tell it to you sometime.
Maybe there will be an opportunity for us to drive many miles in a car in the near future. Maybe you could tell me the tale then.
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