You know what’s crazy? I’ll tell you what’s crazy.™
Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, not a creature is stirring not even a mouse. And that’s good because if there are mice here, then something is seriously wrong.
The stockings are hung like Mexican mules, while visions of sugar plums ferment like jail house wine. Now I don’t know what the hell this means, but it makes me smirk for some damn reason.
Stockings hung like Mexican Mules. Sounds like a Quentin Tarrantino Film. This is the version that nobody ever sings. Go figure.
So I’m sitting here in my house on Christmas Eve.
It’s peaceful like sitting inside of a melodic keiliedoscope.
I’m sitting in the dark, hypnotized like a cat watching a pen lazer. I’m watching the lights from the tree pulse off the walls.
The house is tranquil, all except a Christmas Carol playing on a Mazda commercial somewhere in the background.
Somewhere Santa is in his sleigh being tracked by NORAD.
The presents are under the tree, begging to be opened. They are wrapped in colorful packaging with big red bows.
The lights on the branches shimmer. The lights in the windows are twinkling, dancing, swirling with visions of sugar plumb fairies
The tree smells like a pine forest minus the babbling brook and reindeer.
It’s a timeless feeling. It reminds me of being a kid.
Remember that wide eyed moment coming down the stairs and turning the corner and seeing that big beautiful tree glowing in the living room.
Remember the awe, the exileration when the wonder of XMAS morning filled your eyes.
To a child there are few things greater than Christmas morning. It’s the end of the rainbow to a leprechaun. It’s the silver lining to a storm cloud. It’s a new call girl for Charlie Sheen.
Christmas morning is big boxes tall enough to climb. It’s bicycles and scooters and stockings overflowing with candy canes and fun.
The kids are older now and there is no place for a big wheel under this tree.
But the feeling is the same whether its the Christmas of my memories or the Christmas of tomorrow.
The spirit of the season is upon us.
Oh wait, there’s a mouth scurrying across the floor.
Crap.
Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.
And that is crazy.™