In the spirit of the holidays...Kwanzaa, Hanukkah , Christmas, and Anthony "Hannibal
Lecter" Hopkins's Birthday. Nice...Christian savior of mankind and infamous eater of liver share a birthday month. I am going to curtail my usual warped
sassiness as best as I can and be...nice. Be...nice. Be...nice. I can do it.
Especially since an old friend recently told me he enjoys my "unique perspective" which is respectable people-talk for "you crazy". Same to you, lead farmer! Here goes...
What with all the
turmoil in the world,
global economy in shambles,
Circuit City going under (sort of), and
Starbucks closing several stores, it is enough to dampen your mood, and cause binge eating.
Poor Starbucks. Maybe those snooty "baristas" and their clueless coffee clientèle will finally experience some much needed humility. I have personally known people who postponed staunching chest-wounds until they have had their coffee, licking the rim in preparation for ingesting the magical elixir. It's crushed beans with some bug poop on it...come on!!
I admit I do grab a plain black iced tea during my depressing, soul-crushing waits at airports. And this summer, while in San Diego, I discovered the joy of lemonade-iced tea combined. Regardless, though, my Starbucks experience is the same each time...the barista takes my order of "plain" tea with studied ddisdain and contempt designed to reduce me a ball of shame. Unworthy because I did not order a mocha thin tall loco taco cafe expresso with extra steam-cleaned foam. The sniggers of the customers currying favor with the baristas in this conspiracy of coffee snobbery fail to deter me.
Ultimately, the Starbucks closings were an early indicator of the recession. The people (you and me) tend to cut the frills and emphasize the necessities when the economy tanks. So, congratulations, "people", once again, you were ahead of the teams of eggheads and leaders in detecting (feeling) the recession.
Back to my positive holiday message, my gift to my family and that one person I pay to be my friend on alternating weekends is priceless in meaning, and highly insubstantial. Some will be touched, others will call me a cheap bastard.
For example, I plan to tell
Dutchola that I was going to buy him some underwater ocean-land in his beloved Netherlands for Christmas, but that it would have caused the Netherlands to lose its small-nation specialness. I would not do that ot him or his indigenous people with their beautiful red-light districts and breathtaking "THC" cafes. Talk about flying high...
For
BP, a bottle of domestic beer because the stock in the brewery I "bought" her plummeted; this is more than a bottle. It is a symbol of our friendship because it will remind her of that time that she got toasted and did bail-worthy stuff that she "forgot" the next day....um, that time? Times, maybe?
For Can Pimp in Germany, a rare near-blood friend....afternoon jelly-smeared biscuits and Diet Coke in Grafenwoehr, and of course, determing who was the best at "Cruis'n USA"...and it didn't matter.
For Nets, light and fun from those nearest you, and perhaps more cease-fires and less cross fires. And fervently, right now, may you discover the necessary undertanding of the land in which you have found yourself. You may want to stay out of the corn, and avoid the row-walker.
For SpinePuncher, you are getting a second trip to San Diego, so sssshhhhhhh......Comic Con 2009. Your camera focus and celebrity stalking skills will only improve.
You don't need to give things to let people know you care about them. Face it, most of the time, we already have too much stuff anyway. I myself do not need anything, material whatsoever....hello, check the blog...got the computer, the TV, the chair.
At the risk of sounding like that pretentious git, Bono, none of it means a thing without friends or family as it is not as much fun to lord your possessions over strangers. Of course, if it came down to, say, giving up my "nice" TV for sushi dinners with
Dutchola, or jumping out of the darkness and scaring Spinepuncher...well, some things are priceless.
As you cluster around
the tree, or the
candelabra, or your celebratory meal of liver with a nice Chianti, the best gift that you have is the one that you can re-gift endlessly. Oh, damn, you are
going to make me say it...
...it's love, stupids.
Doesn't matter what kind, if it makes you calm or crazy, or that it is a
sequence of
neuro-chemical reactions in your brain...
....love...
just a little for some....a lot for most, and too much for a lucky few.
Pause a moment, put down the remote control, leave the funny-smelling black-and-white cat alone, and ponder this question...
who loves you, baby? Go give them a gift.
Happy Holidays!!! Love, peace, and
Nut Logs!!
