As I sat transfixed by my blank computer screen page, pondering what on earth to pen this week, I literally, not figuratively, remembered something totally wonderful, to the max, mind you.
Just in case you thought I was abducted and forced to write this, I decided to throw in some infamous Housermanisms. That way, you'd realize that it truly is your humble columnist—much to your chagrin—and there, again, is more proof. (Clearly I've been watching too much Investigation Discovery, as of late.)
At any rate, I recalled that this is a rerun week. Aren't you thrilled to the marrow? Well, frankly, I am. Not only does it remove the pressure from me, in terms of pounding out an original, it also qualifies as a rant, which, let's face it, is everyone's favorite kind of column. (The name of this region should be called “Lisa's Rants” since I rarely have a kind word to say. I'm digressing prior to the main body of the column and in parenthesis. What fun. That made my week, actually, which should tell you how things have been going around here.)
In honor of the season, I present you with this piece, from last year at this very time. Enjoy.
The heartbroken,
neglected holiday
You know, this time of the year oft' finds me in somewhat of a tizzy. Reason being, the holidays are approaching, with speed and agility, and there is nothing we can do about it. Or, is there?
There is one thing specifically that has me ready to pull one of those dramatic movie stunts, in which someone gets really furious and, rather than punching a wall or something, he takes his arm, slides it across some surface, (generally a desk), and pushes everything to the ground.
He then continues to stomp madly through the room, making his rounds, so to speak, and applies the arm sweep to end tables, coffee tables, curio cabinets and/or anything else that houses another object. (Do curios hold anything on the outside?)
The following is what has me on the verge of doing such and, if I could be assured that no arrests would be made, I would adore to do the above-mentioned.
This urge possesses me, “Exorcist” style, every time I enter a store and Christmas decorations, gifts, stockings and all things red and green, line the shelves PRIOR TO Halloween.
This is sheer insanity and it is getting worse by the year. I promise you that, as far as I can remember, one of the popular area chain stores began Christmas around the second week in October. They simultaneously displayed Halloween jazz and the “other” holiday items. (I refuse to even say name of the day for the rest of this piece. Let's see how creative I can really be.)
By the title of this rant, you might surmise that Halloween is the forgotten one but, that is not the case. Rather, it is Thanksgiving that has become so neglected that it has been spotted hanging its head low and showing all the major symptoms of depression. This would all be due to the Solstice overpowering it with all its might. (See, no use of the C word here yet.)
What is the deal? I just cannot tolerate this for another moment and yet, short of utilizing the over-done movie arm sweep, what else can we do about this urgent and deplorable scenario?
Many people have complained about it, across the land, and I am quite certain that some have done so in print form. So, I'm not alone at all.
For example, I can't bring to mind even one friend who enjoys the early arrival of the Saturnalia.
No one cares for the course of action that is taken by every big, national store, from here to San Diego, and yet, we are faced with the plethora of garland, wrapping paper, and the like, earlier and earlier with every passing year.
I've touched on this in past columns but I don't think I've gone quite this crazy over the whole concept.
Poor Thanksgiving is all I can say. Well, it's not all I can say, in all actuality, as I continue to let loose with my rage concerning the premature birth of the December 25 holiday.
Year after year we endure the inevitable, and I just want to scream obscenities like *&%$#@ from the rooftops and perhaps knock Santa and his reindeer off said roof in the process. Oh, that sounds devilishly delightful.
Plus, I, for one, think that the mistletoe celebration should be more like Thanksgiving, if we could even remember what Turkey Day is like, since it is so easily dismissed.
A large meal, maybe a football game, a family gathering with extended relatives, banter and just plain old being together should be the focus of the day that is 6 days away from New Years Eve on the calender. I digressed a touch as I didn't want to break that tradition. (On the note of digression, I'm getting good at avoiding the word and I'm beaming with pride over it, I must confess.)
Back to the store situation, if one wants to call it that. Aren't you sick to death of this crap too? Pretty soon we shall have to meander through the “all things Santa holiday,” in local stores, in order to get to the red, white and blue needed for our July 4 banners and adornments.
I just thought of something. Good gravy but some places even have the unmentionable holiday in July. Haven't you ever heard of “you know what” in July?
I am not one who gives a diddly squat about how this winter gathering has become commercialized or any of that hoopla. In fact, I think it's a wives tale that it was ever anything but commercial from the get-go.
That is not my gripe. My complaint, to put it delicately, is that Tom the Turkey has been all but forgotten, as everyone is too busy feverishly prepping for the “real” holiday.
In closing, and we all know it's time, if you happen to enter a “box store” in the near future and see everything in the red aisle scattered, like sawdust in the wind, you will know that I finally had a gut-full and could stand it no longer.
Another way of ascertaining if I became fed-up, beyond belief, and indeed performed the arm sweep, would be to maybe check the police blotter.
On that note, I hope everyone is looking forward to THANKSGIVING, that deserted, bummed-out and very abandoned holiday.
THE END.