King For A Day
Hello World,
If you're in a locality that celebrates this as a long holiday weekend, I wish you all the very best, to enjoy in the peace-loving and tolerant spirit of the late Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., in whose memory many dozens of otherwise hard-working people will have the day off, and glad of it. Unlike poor Columbus Day and Armistice Day, which in their heyday were considered equals with the big and important holidays, the day to commemorate Dr. King has never really caught on in a substantial way all over the country, and so you can never be sure where it is likely to be observed, or not, in different places. As a result, it finds itself in the unenviable position of being relegated to the second tier of lesser festivals, like the aforementioned pair, without ever having hit the big time in the first place, sort of like Arbor Day or Groundhog Day, except without all the media attention. In fact, next to a news article about how a local community center would be observing Monday with speeches and essays, there was a much bigger story about Groundhog Day, which is not even for another two and a half weeks yet. So it would appear that Dr. King is falling victim to the same “what have you done for us lately” syndrome as poor old Christopher Columbus, and doesn't even get the chance to be King for a Day on his very own day.
Speaking of things going in the wrong direction, I'm as willing as the next fellow to give this brand shiny new year some time to get its sea legs, as it were, and shake the kinks out before writing it off as a lost cause, especially since it would almost have to be an improvement over last year, no matter what. But I feel that it’s only fair to point out that I've already attended two funerals so far this year, which for all intents and purposes, seems like nothing so much as a bad continuation of last year, and not anyone’s idea of a change for the better, thanks not. Of course, it must be said that one of those funerals was a big Irish one, and to say that it was very jolly would be an understatement of epic proportions, in fact if it had gotten any jollier, the police would have carted everyone away in wagons, believe me. And while I'm as much in favor of jollity as the next fellow, and probably more than most, I still would prefer a significant reduction in the amount of funerals compared to last year, and that’s not just a lot of green beer and shamrocks talking, believe me.
Well, the scoffers may, well, scoff all they like, but I am happy to report that the Christmas Un-Decorating Team at work did actually put away all of the decorations in the department, including the tree, rolling cart and all of the ornaments. And I don't mean tossed unceremoniously into a trash bag and stuffed in a corner, but properly put away in their own little packages, even the tablecloth and door cover folded up nice and neat and wrapped in plastic for next year. Being that this was only the second week in January (and a scant 5 days after Epiphany, or Festival of the Three Kings) it constitutes a remarkable achievement for the Christmas Un-Decorating Team around here, if not positively record-breaking, at least in recent memory for this event. So take that, you scoffers, and I'm sure you know who you are.
We also took the opportunity for un-decorating at home while the time was ripe, and we soon had the lights, wreaths and cat stockings packed up and back where they belong for the next Visit From St. Nicholas. Even the tree made the annual journey from the living room out to the backyard, because of course, everyone knows that Bill is king of his castle and not one to be daunted by any old 10-foot behemoth, and weighing in at hundreds of pounds is no proof against his determination. He even swept up all of the thousands of needles that are routinely exploded off of the tree while trying to manhandle it back through the front door, which is not for the faint-hearted, and I ought to know, so he deserves extra credit for that. And while it may be 345 days until Christmas, I always say that it’s never too early to start getting on the good side of the jolly old elf himself, so Bill has already taken steps to keep himself on that Nice List for good girls and boys, and not that it counts for anything, but he’s certainly got my vote, that’s for sure.
Normally, that would be all the news in the realm of Christmas trees in our lives, and more than usual, I don't mind saying, but not this time around. In what I consider an odd twist, and as unwelcome as it was unexpected, when I left church on Sunday, I couldn't help but notice that someone had tossed a small tabletop tree into the parking lot and just left it there abandoned, without a second thought. I'm thinking that it must have occurred to them that the errant tree, no matter how little, was not going to somehow magically find its own way to the curb to be picked up by the city, and they can't have left it outside with the expectation that it would be adopted by some generous family who would give it a good home. Frankly, I consider it a puzzling development that anyone would dump a used tree in our parking lot, and just satisfy themselves with the idea that it was now the church’s problem and that we would take care of cleaning up after them. Perhaps they think that churches subscribe to some sort of ecclesiastical chipping service, that comes around and chops up the unwanted effluvium from the property, using the resulting mulch to grow Easter lilies and Christmas poinsettias, and in a perfect world, I suppose that might be true. However, it’s not true at our church, and so I found myself carrying yet another tree home and putting it in the backyard with the rest of them, which is turning into quite a crowd back there at this point. I mean, I always say that there’s no such thing as too much firewood, but this is starting to get to be a little too much of a good thing, even for me, and don't forget, I have very low standards.
Meanwhile at work, I was in the ladies room washing my hands and was thrilled to find actual hot water coming out of the faucet, which hasn't happened in at least 18 months there, that I can remember. This was a such a luxury for us in this old rattle-trap of a building, especially on a day that was chilly, because usually the place is so over-heated that you wouldn't want hot water even if there was any. I was thinking that it’s pathetic how the little things make us happy, as I observed to the inimitable Jean our Bookkeeper, like hot water in the bathroom. "Well, at work, anyway,” she mused, “I mean, I hope you have it at home.” Of course, I pointed out, because unlike this old flea-bag of a joint, our house is only 105 years old, and actually comes complete with all of the modern conveniences like hot water. Well, that is to say, all of the modern conveniences that were considered necessary for homes being designed for the discriminating buyer at the turn of the 19th century anyway.
And while we're on the topic of discrimination, I bumped into an ad on the AOL Welcome screen last week, where they were eager to offer me the opportunity to complete my degree in what they described as “Frensics” in only one year, imagine that! Personally, I have no idea what “Frensics” could be, or why I would want a degree in it, but taking a wild stab at it, I would guess that it would be the study of why people are sick of the French, or alternately, what it is about French food that makes people sick. I wouldn't actually think that there would be a big call for any studies of this nature, but then, I've been wrong before, and the dinosaurs will be happy to tell you that I'm no expert on human behavior. In fact, they would be the first to say that they've never seen me exhibit any particular skill beyond the art or study of argumentative discourse, but in the peace-loving and tolerant spirit of the late Dr. King, I am prepared to let that slide.
Elle
If you're in a locality that celebrates this as a long holiday weekend, I wish you all the very best, to enjoy in the peace-loving and tolerant spirit of the late Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., in whose memory many dozens of otherwise hard-working people will have the day off, and glad of it. Unlike poor Columbus Day and Armistice Day, which in their heyday were considered equals with the big and important holidays, the day to commemorate Dr. King has never really caught on in a substantial way all over the country, and so you can never be sure where it is likely to be observed, or not, in different places. As a result, it finds itself in the unenviable position of being relegated to the second tier of lesser festivals, like the aforementioned pair, without ever having hit the big time in the first place, sort of like Arbor Day or Groundhog Day, except without all the media attention. In fact, next to a news article about how a local community center would be observing Monday with speeches and essays, there was a much bigger story about Groundhog Day, which is not even for another two and a half weeks yet. So it would appear that Dr. King is falling victim to the same “what have you done for us lately” syndrome as poor old Christopher Columbus, and doesn't even get the chance to be King for a Day on his very own day.
Speaking of things going in the wrong direction, I'm as willing as the next fellow to give this brand shiny new year some time to get its sea legs, as it were, and shake the kinks out before writing it off as a lost cause, especially since it would almost have to be an improvement over last year, no matter what. But I feel that it’s only fair to point out that I've already attended two funerals so far this year, which for all intents and purposes, seems like nothing so much as a bad continuation of last year, and not anyone’s idea of a change for the better, thanks not. Of course, it must be said that one of those funerals was a big Irish one, and to say that it was very jolly would be an understatement of epic proportions, in fact if it had gotten any jollier, the police would have carted everyone away in wagons, believe me. And while I'm as much in favor of jollity as the next fellow, and probably more than most, I still would prefer a significant reduction in the amount of funerals compared to last year, and that’s not just a lot of green beer and shamrocks talking, believe me.
Well, the scoffers may, well, scoff all they like, but I am happy to report that the Christmas Un-Decorating Team at work did actually put away all of the decorations in the department, including the tree, rolling cart and all of the ornaments. And I don't mean tossed unceremoniously into a trash bag and stuffed in a corner, but properly put away in their own little packages, even the tablecloth and door cover folded up nice and neat and wrapped in plastic for next year. Being that this was only the second week in January (and a scant 5 days after Epiphany, or Festival of the Three Kings) it constitutes a remarkable achievement for the Christmas Un-Decorating Team around here, if not positively record-breaking, at least in recent memory for this event. So take that, you scoffers, and I'm sure you know who you are.
We also took the opportunity for un-decorating at home while the time was ripe, and we soon had the lights, wreaths and cat stockings packed up and back where they belong for the next Visit From St. Nicholas. Even the tree made the annual journey from the living room out to the backyard, because of course, everyone knows that Bill is king of his castle and not one to be daunted by any old 10-foot behemoth, and weighing in at hundreds of pounds is no proof against his determination. He even swept up all of the thousands of needles that are routinely exploded off of the tree while trying to manhandle it back through the front door, which is not for the faint-hearted, and I ought to know, so he deserves extra credit for that. And while it may be 345 days until Christmas, I always say that it’s never too early to start getting on the good side of the jolly old elf himself, so Bill has already taken steps to keep himself on that Nice List for good girls and boys, and not that it counts for anything, but he’s certainly got my vote, that’s for sure.
Normally, that would be all the news in the realm of Christmas trees in our lives, and more than usual, I don't mind saying, but not this time around. In what I consider an odd twist, and as unwelcome as it was unexpected, when I left church on Sunday, I couldn't help but notice that someone had tossed a small tabletop tree into the parking lot and just left it there abandoned, without a second thought. I'm thinking that it must have occurred to them that the errant tree, no matter how little, was not going to somehow magically find its own way to the curb to be picked up by the city, and they can't have left it outside with the expectation that it would be adopted by some generous family who would give it a good home. Frankly, I consider it a puzzling development that anyone would dump a used tree in our parking lot, and just satisfy themselves with the idea that it was now the church’s problem and that we would take care of cleaning up after them. Perhaps they think that churches subscribe to some sort of ecclesiastical chipping service, that comes around and chops up the unwanted effluvium from the property, using the resulting mulch to grow Easter lilies and Christmas poinsettias, and in a perfect world, I suppose that might be true. However, it’s not true at our church, and so I found myself carrying yet another tree home and putting it in the backyard with the rest of them, which is turning into quite a crowd back there at this point. I mean, I always say that there’s no such thing as too much firewood, but this is starting to get to be a little too much of a good thing, even for me, and don't forget, I have very low standards.
Meanwhile at work, I was in the ladies room washing my hands and was thrilled to find actual hot water coming out of the faucet, which hasn't happened in at least 18 months there, that I can remember. This was a such a luxury for us in this old rattle-trap of a building, especially on a day that was chilly, because usually the place is so over-heated that you wouldn't want hot water even if there was any. I was thinking that it’s pathetic how the little things make us happy, as I observed to the inimitable Jean our Bookkeeper, like hot water in the bathroom. "Well, at work, anyway,” she mused, “I mean, I hope you have it at home.” Of course, I pointed out, because unlike this old flea-bag of a joint, our house is only 105 years old, and actually comes complete with all of the modern conveniences like hot water. Well, that is to say, all of the modern conveniences that were considered necessary for homes being designed for the discriminating buyer at the turn of the 19th century anyway.
And while we're on the topic of discrimination, I bumped into an ad on the AOL Welcome screen last week, where they were eager to offer me the opportunity to complete my degree in what they described as “Frensics” in only one year, imagine that! Personally, I have no idea what “Frensics” could be, or why I would want a degree in it, but taking a wild stab at it, I would guess that it would be the study of why people are sick of the French, or alternately, what it is about French food that makes people sick. I wouldn't actually think that there would be a big call for any studies of this nature, but then, I've been wrong before, and the dinosaurs will be happy to tell you that I'm no expert on human behavior. In fact, they would be the first to say that they've never seen me exhibit any particular skill beyond the art or study of argumentative discourse, but in the peace-loving and tolerant spirit of the late Dr. King, I am prepared to let that slide.
Elle
posted by El Tango Fandango @ 6:08 PM
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