Thanksgiving is the time we celebrate the immigration of Pilgrims to this country. I won’t talk about the genocide on Native Americans which is the real reason we celebrate Thanksgiving because I covered that last year at this time. Locally WKBN radio host and teabagger Dan Rivers can be heard daily bashing illegal aliens and our current immigration laws. If only we had immigration laws 300 years ago to keep out white-trash elements like; the Rivers, Limbaughs, Hannitys, Colters, Stossels, O’Reillys, Roves, Nugents, Kardashians, Trumps, Bushes and Reagan families what a better country we would be living in. I’m just sighing over what should have been gladly spilled trash.
Speaking of trash over at WSOM radio show “Tracey and Friends” Jeff and Sticks can be heard talking trash and yelling, “Whoooooa, whooooa, whaaaa, whaaaa, hey, hey, stop, stop, stop every time callers point out the hosts lies. I’m not saying the “Friends” lie 24/7 because I’m sure they spend some hours sleeping. Then again if they talk in their sleep it would also be a lie. Jeff said, “We are not going to sit here and listen to people’s lies.” Sorry Jeff and Sticks but no one would believe you even if you were telling the truth. Then again no jury will ever find you guilty of truth telling.
Bill O’Reilly is now ramping up his annual B.S. lie filled stories how Christmas is under attack. Warren Tribune Chronicle Letter to the Editor writer Pat Zoccoli sent in her annual editorial about how people have forgotten the reason for the season. Those two things mean it is officially the Christmas Season. I’ve decided to start my own Christmas time tradition and see how it goes. I think in the hustling bustling Christmas season a little more humor is needed. I also really need a break from writing about such serious things. So I have taken something I’ve written and posted in a past Christmas season and decided to post it again. I hope you find it amusing. Here goes:
My family is made up of mostly Christians and will be celebrating Christmas. To me that means I will have to suffer with a phobia (one of many weird ones) I have. It is called, Papyrophobia which means I fear boxes. Not just in a physical way, but in a mental way also. To me they represent things like packing up and moving. Moving to me represents change, and I can be slow to accept change. I note every time I have ever moved to a new residence has always been on the hottest day of the year or the coldest with the most snow fall of the year.
At Christmas time, I will be crawling into my attic, dragging out heavy boxes of Christmas ornaments and the artificial Christmas tree. It means spending time helping decorate the tree and house. It seems like a waste of time when I’ll be packing it all back up after a few weeks. It’s not that I’m lazy (OK maybe a little) but it seems like time wasted that could have been better spent. All the time decorating and shopping in the Christmas season would be better spent volunteering to help those less fortunate. Wouldn’t that really be more in keeping with the spirit of the holiday? The first Noel seems to have been replaced by the first one through Walmart’s door on Black Friday gets the Xbox 360.
Here is a poem I wrote a few years back about my box phobia:
I Like My Beer In a Mug…Don’t Box Me In
It’s hot today I comment,
as I open my lunch box
looking for a cool drink
like a thermos of iced tea
but the only thing I see
is a small box of cereal.
Why would my wife pack this?
I refuse to pour milk into a box of cereal.
Cardboard makes a terrible bowl
but it’s not really cereal
it’s actually orange juice.
Orange juice in a single-serving box??
I imagine paper cuts
and very bloody lips.
At home I open the fridge
still looking for a cool drink.
It’s stacked with boxes of Kool Aid.
I like my Kool Aid in a pitcher,
any old pitcher will do.
It need not have a smiley face
but it surely shouldn’t be in a box.
For Christmas, I got a box of wine.
Ask any self-respecting wino and
he’ll say wine in a paper bag yes,
wine in a box—sacrilegious.
Imagine a couple in love
sitting at a Paris Café
at an intimate table,
on it sits a box of wine—on ice.
I ask your opinion,
is that a romantic picture?
Well Christmas is over,
its time to put away
what must surely be
the greatest invention
of the 20th century
the artificial Christmas tree.
My wife says we need
a new box to store it in.
I ask her, “Where do we find such a large box?”
She takes me to a box store.
They sell nothing but boxes,
little boxes, big boxes, white and brown boxes.
It’s actually a franchise business.
I’d sooner own a hat blocking shop.
Insurance costs on employees
must be out of sight,
what with the danger of paper cuts.
My wife recycles boxes
so more boxes can be made.
It’s a vicious circle,
a plot against me.
Scientists now study
the power of pyramids.
Future archeologist will study
the mystery of the box.
They will find
the day a tavern owner
started serving draft beer in a box.
Rev. Billy Choir: What Would Jesus Buy (Shopocalypse)
more Rev. Billy: Back Away From the Walmart
“Christmas is not as much about opening our presents as opening our hearts.” ― Janice Maeditere