Christmas Day
December 5, 1999
Hey pal…yea, you. The one with the deep bags under his eyes. The one who looks like he hasn’t had much sleep in the last few weeks. The one with the maxed-out credit cards and the frazzled patience. The one with the 6 new gray hairs on his head. The one who got into a toy store brawl with a big-haired lady for the last beanie-furry-thingie on the shelf and received only an ugly shiner to show for it . The one who, on Christmas Eve, triumphantly flipped off a granny as he snaked her parking spot at the mall…
The one who was up until 3:30 a.m. assembling the kids’ new “easy-to-assemble” bike and ended up with three extra parts. The one who burned the turkey on Christmas Eve. Yea you, the guy who needs a break from all that is Christmas. Now that the presents have all been opened and you’ve been relieved of your cooking duties (thanks to last night), maybe you ought to get out for a while. Grab a rod and head for some water — any water — and do a little fishing. Christmas is the best day of the year to do it after all.
Slip out the Back, Jack
Yea, I know, it’s cold out there, but I guarantee you’ll have any piece of water you choose all to yourself on Christmas. There, as you make a few casts, you’ll be able to clear your head, take a few deep breaths and remember what the holidays are really all about. You’ll also get to experience something that’s in short supply these days, even in the outdoors — solitude. Go ahead, relax a little. Make a few more casts. Even if you don’t catch anything, you’ll be amazed at how much better you’ll feel when you get back home. Heck, maybe you’ll even be able to put up with crazy Uncle Larry and his belched rendition of the Star Spangled Banner later this evening. Maybe even cousin Louise’s’ god-awful fruit salad will taste a little less like it was tossed with Elmer’s Glue tonight. Maybe, just maybe, you’ll even get away without having to do that elephant-sized pile of Christmas dinner dishes that you always get stuck with. Oh yea, buddy, things are looking up!
Our Little Secret
Okay, here’s the deal. When you go back home, swear on your life that you won’t tell a soul where you were. When pressed, the real trick is to make up something that sounds both believable yet unappealing. You know, something about how the damn dog chewed through your golf bag in the garage and you had to go around and pick up all the balls that spilled out on the floor before he ate those too. Whatever you do, don’t mention anything about fixing something — all your bored male relatives will want to go out and see it they can give you a hand. Do that and the jig is up! Nope, tell ‘em you were out giving the cat a bath or something. Just don’t let anybody else know that your little world of peace and quiet exists out there — you want it to be there next year too, right? Right! It will be our little secret. Happy Holidays.
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