“Santa Claus had the right idea. Visit people only once a year.” 

 Victor Borge

 

 

Santa Clause: a stout white-bearded, jovial old gentleman in red clothing, who supposedly distributes presents on December 24 of any given year AKA… Saint Nicholas….

Tilly: Why is Saint Nicholas celebrated on Christmas? The American Santa Claus, as well as the British Father Christmas, derive from Saint Nicholas. “Santa Claus” is itself derived in part from the Dutch Sinterklaas, the saint’s name in that language. (Thank you, Google.) And I’m with Victor.

Be on the lookout for this character he will not be easy to find.  Mankind has looked for him for centuries to no avail.

Tilly: Codswallop! I remember seeing him – I heard the bells on his sleigh before he landed on the roof and climbed down our chimney! I was too young to have hit the giggly grog then, but I swear he held a large glassful of something warming when I peeped down the stairs …

He seems to know when you are sleeping, he knows when you are awake, he knows who is naughty or nice, or so the songs seem to go.

Tilly: Real P.I.T.A. that … (translation: pain in the derrière.)

I have grown older and somewhat wiser over the years

Tilly: You genuinely expect us to believe that?

with some saying a bit cynical along the way.

Tilly: Can’t argue with that.

A feminist who has not taken the wisdom that she has acquired added to that touch of humour that has outgrown, “be good for goodness sake” crap.

Tilly: That man needed a good spin doctor. Should have made it ‘be kind for goodness’sake’.

A feminist with a sense of humour, you say!  Yes.  These things can happen.

Tilly: Just look how good we are at laughing at all those male politicians.

Not often, but yes, Virginia a feminist with a sense of humour.

Tilly: Who’s Virginia?

Olive: I am surprised you have never read or heard this story.

https://www.villageschoolma.org/pdf/YesVirginiathereisaSantaClaus.pdf

Tilly: I followed the link. Too good not to share, remind people.

Mother Nature has a way of balancing life when you have a son who insisted on growing up into a decent young man.

Tilly: Despite your best efforts? Now that is no laughing matter. Bravo.

That, the now grown son up and moves away.

Tilly: As is right and proper. Did you help him pack?

Olive: Why of course, I am a good mom. 

Your sense of direction has left you with humour taking up residence in your spare bedroom.

Tilly: At least you have somewhere to go where you are guaranteed a good laugh.

With time on your hands too much time by some people’s standards, and silence that will deafen you.

Tilly: Glorious, innit?

You no longer have to hear Alice Cooper feeding his Frankenstein, balanced out by Hank JR getting “Buck Naked”, spurred on by other loud, rambunctious noises no mother dares investigate in her son’s room.

Tilly: Mmm … most boys’ rooms are no-go war zones.

Cleaning out the disaster area formerly known, as “It’s my bedroom I’ll clean it later”.

Tilly: A universal cry that is not music to one’s ears.

Knowing in your heart that this area of the house should be declared a disaster and you should apply for federal aid in cleaning it up, and you would if it were not for the paper work involved. Not to mention that doing things in triplicate and with black ink no longer appeals to you.

Tilly: Take out an injunction for said offender to clear and clean the wasteland?

You find yourself acquainted with scattered thoughts, only to be called to order by a single phone call and that sweet voice stating, “I’ll be home for Christmas”, shattering all hopes for a “Silent Night”, for a least the next three weeks.

Tilly: Take the phone off the hook? If he writes to you, then he really wants to spend time with you and it might be worth all the extra hard work. 

Which brings my life to an abrupt halt as I realize I have not done my seasonal ritual of running around from store to store.

Tilly: Send the prodigal son a shopping list for him pick up on his way home?

Gathering up my stressed moments, knowing that the kitchen has a bare cupboard waiting to be explored.

Tilly: And filled?

I did what I thought was the only adult thing that I could do.

Tilly: Gave a bottle of wine mouth-to-mouth resuscitation?

Olive: Absolutely.

Pulling my thoughts together and checking my wallet

Tilly: For Santa Claus, read Santa Claws – just think of the damage he has done and will do to our wallets.

led me straight to the nearest bar

Tilly: Now you’re talking …

so I can read the writing on the walls.  Of course, I am speaking of the bathroom walls.

Tilly: My favourite graffiti: ‘My mum made me a homosexual.’ Response, ‘If I send her the wool, will she make me one?’ – courtesy of George Melly, Liverpudlian jazz musician and great bloke

I have lived many years to find out “good girls go to heaven, bad girls go everywhere.

Tilly: Stunned it has taken you so long … might need a drink to get over the shock. Course, as a child bride, I have yet to discover this …

Olive: Funny, really funny.

Which leads me back to this man named Santa Claus, and the phrase “be good for goodness sake”, which might explain why I have not been anywhere…where as some others have had much more fun than I.  They have been everywhere.

Tilly: Doesn’t mean they had fun – and maybe the price for going everywhere is too high?

I’ve now had time and a few more drinks than I need to settle myself down to ask a few simple questions in hopes that someone out there might have an answer.

Tilly: Always so much easier to string a few cogent and coherent postulations together when not as drinked as tuttle peeps you are …

Just who is Santa Claus and is this real name?

Tilly: The legend of Santa Claus can be traced back hundreds of years to a monk named St. Nicholas. It is believed that Nicholas was born sometime around 280 A.D. in Patara, near Myra in modern-day Turkey. Much admired for his piety and kindness. See? I told you his message should be ‘be kind’.

Are there any known fingerprints of him on file at the FBI so we can confirm his identity?  Tilly: They will be embedded on the sherry bottles for all eternity.Do we need Ken Starr to lead us forward into this search for the truth? Tilly: Keep up, Olive … sadly Ken Starr (RIP) won’t be able to take up the challenge.

If we make a list and check it twice are we checking this list for spelling, punctuation, or grammar? I really don’t remember being told, Tilly: The list for Santa? Feed him enough sherry and he really won’t care about that stuff. And are teachers going to consider this list extracurricular activity?  If not, why not? Tilly: No – they want a holiday, too. 

If I have to be good for goodness sakes, and bad girls go everywhere does this mean I’m not getting the Victoria Secret Catalogue of garter belts and stocking gift certificate that I’ve asked for Tilly: Tricky – unlikely Prodigal Son will want to fulfill this ‘Secret Santa’ request. and does this explain why Monica Lewenski got to go to London, England Tilly: A bit old hat? What about Virginia Giuffre, who extracted mega dollars from a British prince? She can go where the hell she pleases – with lots of Victoria’s Secret goodies. And lots of secrets …and why none of the feminist organizations didn’t get to go with her, because they kept their mouths shut for goodness sakes?

Tilly: About that … lots of closed mouths about lots of names and dates …

What about the sleigh and those reindeer traversing the Interstate around our major cities and towns? Tilly: The future is right there! Just watch how quickly reindeer are rigged up to all those electric cars no one can afford to recharge, when power is available. Are those bells going to be loud enough to over ride the yelling and finger show he’ll receive along the way? Tilly: Silly girl. That’ll be those who want a lift because they can’t find petrol (gas) or power. And just where does he think he’s going to park that thing anyway? Tilly: In the drive, for goodness’ sake.  And who wants to clean up the mess those reindeer are going to make?  Tilly: Think of the manure for the gardens and all those fresh vegetables with great flavour … Speaking of reindeer, what is he feeding them anyway?  Tilly: Does it matter – maybe he should market it because they certainly run for longer than the Duracell Energizer Bunny! Shouldn’t the animal rights groups be questioning this along with a DEA agent joining in to see just what does make Rudolph’s nose so bright or why any reindeer at all can fly? Tilly: Wouldn’t your nose be red and glowy if you were at the front, against the icy wind?

What about those elves? Are they here legally and why do they have to dress in those tights and please don’t mention those bells they wear they are beginning to give me a headache. Tilly: Ding bloody dong … it’s the tights that make the bells ring.

Watching the clock on the wall I’m brought back to my senses Tilly: Don’t be daft.so once again I’m off and running into my own thoughts Tilly: Ah – going round in circles, are we? Less red, more water? wondering what the end of this year will bring. Tilly: New Year’s Eve.  I find myself standing in my kitchen baking cookies to set out for this rotund jovial little character I’m talking about Santa Claus of course not my son who obviously (Santa Claus) doesn’t need more cookies just a good fat free diet. Tilly: Fat-free is not a good diet. We need fats to provide the hormone cascade to feed the endocrine system. Wonder if there is a link between no-fat diets and some of the emotional/eating disorders? Hmm … And am I the only one who has noticed that smile and twinkle in his eyes? Tilly: How wonderful is that?  I wonder what he is on anyway. Tilly: I don’t care. I want some.

After having my night cap and settling in alone again for a long winter’s nap Tilly: What?! No word from you until spring? I find myself Tilly: Are you lost? wondering what colours do you decorate balls with Tilly: A loaded question if ever I heard one.  and why do you put them in the hall anyway? Tilly: Back to the ding bloody dong, rhymes and they have to go somewhere?

Last of all and most important for a woman these days, Tilly: Wait for it …

Do I really need a man who plays with elves, prefers children and only comes once a year?

Tilly: OMG, Olive, now all sorts of organisations, civil rights, children’s right, women’s rights and male impotence clinics will jump on the bandwagon! It’s a time for goodwill, generosity and great cheer.

 

 

MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL

AND

TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT

 

Tilly: My contribution:

A Politically Correct Christmas

~ Anon

Twas the night before Christmas and Santa’s a wreck…

How to live in a world that’s politically correct?

His workers no longer would answer to “Elves”,

“Vertically Challenged” they were calling themselves.

And labor conditions at the North Pole,

were alleged by the union, to stifle the soul.

Four reindeer had vanished without much propriety,

released to the wilds, by the Humane Society.

And equal employment had made it quite clear,

that Santa had better not use just reindeer.

So Dancer and Donner, Comet and Cupid,

were replaced with 4 pigs, and you know that looked stupid!

The runners had been removed from his beautiful sleigh,

because the ruts were deemed dangerous by the EPA,

And millions of people were calling the Cops,

when they heard sled noises upon their roof tops.

Second-hand smoke from his pipe, had his workers quite frightened,

and his fur trimmed red suit was called “unenlightened”.

To show you the strangeness of today’s ebbs and flows,

Rudolf was suing over unauthorized use of his nose.

He went to Geraldo, in front of the Nation,

demanding millions in over-due workers compensation.

So…half of the reindeer were gone, and his wife

who suddenly said she’d had enough of this life,

joined a self help group, packed and left in a whiz,

demanding from now on that her title was Ms.

And as for gifts…why, he’d never had the notion

that making a choice could cause such commotion.

Nothing of leather, nothing of fur…

Which meant nothing for him or nothing for her.

Nothing to aim, Nothing to shoot,

Nothing that clamored or made lots of noise.

Nothing for just girls and nothing for just boys.

Nothing that claimed to be gender specific,

Nothing that’s warlike or non-pacifistic.

No candy or sweets…they were bad for the tooth.

Nothing that seemed to embellish upon the truth.

And fairy tales…while not yet forbidden,

were like Ken and Barbie, better off hidden,

for they raised the hackles of those psychological,

who claimed the only good gift was one ecological.

No baseball, no football…someone might get hurt,

besides – playing sports exposed kids to dirt.

Dolls were said to be sexist and should be passe.

and Nintendo would rot your entire brain away.

So Santa just stood there, disheveled and perplexed,

he just couldn’t figure out what to do next?

He tried to be merry he tried to be gay,

but you must have to admit he was having a very bad day.

His sack was quite empty, it was flat on the ground,

nothing fully acceptable was anywhere to be found.

Something special was needed, a gift that he might,

give to us all, without angering the left or the right.

A gift that would satisfy – with no indecision,

each group of people in every religion.

Every race, every hue,

everyone, everywhere…even you!

So here is that gift, it’s price beyond worth…

“May you and your loved ones enjoy peace on Earth.”

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