Come on Scrooge, snap out of it.

This is my favorite time of year.  It always has been, ever since I was a little kid.  It meant the arrival of two of my favorite things, Christmas and snow, both of which caused another one of my favorite things - days off from school.


Christmastime made everything better.  It made TV better.(Christmas specials, like Rudolph)  It made church better, it made working at my parent’s business better. It made playing outside better.  It even made school better.  By the time we got this close to Christmas break, the teachers in my school were slacking off just as much as us kids.  A large portion of our days at that point, would be devoted to practicing our class’s portion of our annual school Christmas program, and making Christmas artwork - much easier than the regular routine.


While the teacher would be working with one student, or a small group of kids, learning their particular parts in the school program, my friends and I could pretty much just talk and goof off.   Our classroom would be decorated with Christmas art we made, much of which we would eventually take home to be hung up every Christmas for years to come.  Those days were almost as good as having no school at all.


Fridays, during this time of the year were the best.  Especially if it was snowing.  Our teachers had pretty much complete control of our class schedule, and they would often let a fifteen minute recess drag on to about half an hour.  They understood.  It was almost Christmas, and there were snowmen and snow forts to be built, snowballs to be thrown, and snow angels to be made.  It was hard to get all that done in a mere fifteen minutes


Our teachers had their own motivations as well.  I sure that thirty minutes in the teachers lounge beat fifteen.  Why slam down a cup of coffee and have just one cigarette when you could sit back, enjoy a cup, and have three cigarettes?


Once back inside, it took us at least another fifteen minutes to take off our coats and boots and get them all situated on and under the coat rack outside our classroom.  A large puddle of water from snow melting off of boots would begin to form on the hall floor tile.  


After that, we still had to place all of our cold, wet hats and mittens on classroom heater.  It’s easy to understand how we didn’t get much done on days like that.  We’d be lucky (unlucky) if we got even an hour of actual education in between noon and three on days like that.  I loved it, and so did everyone else.  In a matter of minutes, we would be putting those coats and boots back on and heading to two days of freedom, and we weren’t even burning up any Christmas vacation yet.  We all knew that the following week would mean even less school work and was probably not even a full week depending on which day Christmas fell upon.

Is this you?
Is this you?









If either one is, you have no one to blame but yourself. You let the magic die,

My question is. “What happened?”  What happened to so many of us that say that we don’t like Christmas, or don’t like snow?  I’ll give urban dwellers a pass on the snow.  There isn’t much upside to snow in the city, but Christmas?  Come on, what’s wrong with you?


Two of my favorite Christmas specials are “How the Grinch Stole Christmas” and “A Christmas Carol”.  Both explain how and why the anti-Christmas characters came to be the way they were.  I figure something similar (although not on as grand of a scale) must have happened to people who say they don’t like Christmas.  Maybe they hate Christmas shopping.  (I am in complete agreement with them there.)  Maybe they had some unpleasant experience during a Christmas past.  Whatever it is, I wish such people would try to remember when Christmas and snow meant nothing but joy.

Try to put yourself back to a Friday, in the middle of December back, in third grade.  When it was almost Christmas, it was snowing, and everyone around you agreed that those were both good things.

2 comments:

  1. Bah! Humbug! For me Christmas was a loathesome event with my in laws that were skull f****d liberals and morons. Mom and Dad were elderly hippies that were morally superior in every way and felt they were obligated to interfere in my family affairs. Brother in law was a rectum faced Marxist and intellectual poseur that figured Christmas was a time to lecture on leftwing politics. HIS in laws were there and they were even worse - hairy chested feminists, militant atheists, and gay hipsters. By the time Christmas dinner was over I was ready to open my wrists. 4 years ago my daughter used Christmas to announce that she was gay and wonderful and beautiful and that I would become politically correct and live under the rainbow or I would never see her again. I got up and left and haven't seen her since or any of that poxy family either. I won't even go to their funerals - if a tree falls in their forest I won't hear it. They are the kind of people that think Christmas is offensive and put up a 'holiday tree' instead.

    In my forest, I put up a few decorations at home but not many. I buy presents for the kids and my wife takes them over. This Christmas I will celebrate with my dogs. I have a spot in the backwoods where my outfitter tent will go up and I have a stash of firewood for the stove to keep it going for a couple days. On Christmas Day I will thank God for my good fortune, my good wife and fine dogs. I will ask Him to keep Darwin and Murphy away from my family and grant them some good fortune and common sense this year. I don't pray often. Christmas should be a time of introspection and thought too. I hope there is snow this year.

    Merry Christmas to you GG and a Happy New Year.

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    1. You know, that was pretty good! I bet that your story could be expanded into a holiday special, a story similar to the Grinch or Scrooge, only liberal dickweeds were the cause of someone hating Christmas. Then something happens in that person's life that makes him realize that it was liberalism that spoiled Christmas for him. In the end, he rejects all things liberal, and lives happily ever after.

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