Holiday humbug

I don’t mean to be a Scrooge, although my kids will tell you I have those tendencies, but the Thanksgiving holiday didn’t exactly put me in the Christmas spirit.

Sure, our outside lights are up, but only because my wife and daughter took matters into their own hands. Our tree isn’t up because we still insist on a real evergreen and don’t want to tempt a fire by getting it too early.

My mood has been in steady decline since Thursday, when we gathered with my family at the home of one of my sisters. Now I don’t claim any right to tell anyone how to run their household, but “take off your shoes and come in” doesn’t exactly sound like “you’re welcome here” to me. All of my sisters are inflicted with this shoe phobia, even though most of them have hardwood floors or tile.

What’s worse is the Thanksgiving sister has a dog that is allowed his run of the place, including any furniture and people within it. I love dogs, especially my own, but I don’t believe in treating them better than people, let alone relatives.

So we survived Thanksgiving and the dry oven roasted turkey – once you’ve had deep fried turkey, nothing else compares – and I looked forward to celebrating National Sleep-In Day, known to many as Black Friday. Until the phone rang and I was notified that the neighborhood arts center where I devote considerable community service was vandalized.

The center is located in a fairly rough neighborhood that I also call home. Historically, the center has been spared violence, I liked to believe, because the residents believed in our mission and supported the good things we were trying to accomplish for the neighborhood. That notion was shattered with one glass bottle thrown through one of four large, double-paned picture windows. So I spent Friday cleaning up broken glass and boarding up a window in a neighborhood that already has far too many boarded windows.

Saturday I ventured out to the Bull's Eye Boutique, primarily because I wanted some of their yummy rotisserie chicken salad. Alas, the deli I have come to love was gone, replaced by refrigerated shelves of pre-packaged deli items, including the aforementioned chicken salad in half-pound and pound containers. I don’t consider this progress and leave with my craving unsatisfied and my confidence in humanity declining.

The day ended on a high note, though, as I went to see “Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan”. My one word review: Brilliant! I have never laughed so hard. Go see it, unless you’re easily offended, in which case you should get over yourself first.

Next came Sunday, the best day of the week for fantasy football players. Unfortunately, I hitched my wagon to Eli Manning and the New York Giants. As a result, I lost my seventh game and have been eliminated from playoff consideration. My 14th season will end like all the others, with me presenting a trophy to someone else.

So I look forward to Monday and returning to work. At least I have a job to return to, unlike my Minnesota friend, a part-time copy editor at a once-respectable newspaper. The new owners have put their stamp on the place by firing all part-time employees as of Dec. 1. Merry Christmas!

At least I have the Green Bay Packers on Monday Night Football to look forward to. Or do I?