My kind of Christmas

My life isn't quite Norman Rockwell. On the plus side, it isn't Norman Bates either. And it isn't Rockwell-flies-over-the cukoo's-nest... though it's pretty darn close. My point is, I've never had those picture-perfect blissful holidays that we're told we remember from our childhoods... family gathered around a table heaped with food, sharing joy and laughter and comraderie... presents piled beneath the tree... children gleefully tearing off paper and and revealing new treasures with an enthusiasm matched only by George W. Bush when he was given the keys to the country.... I know many have it worse than I during the holidays, and I am grateful for what I have. But I also know how hard the holidays are for those of us whose lives never have, and we fear never will, match those of the movies and paintings and books set in the Rockwellian world that is The Perfect Christmas.

And it doesn't help when radio stations start blasting holiday music a week before American Thanksgiving (?!?). If I hear one more rendition of "I'll be home for Christmas" or "I'm dreaming of a white Christmas" I'm going postal on some poor Santa Claus lawn ornament. And the next ceramic reindeer I see is going to be Christmas dinner!

So, being a bit twisted, a bit jaded, and yet still a bit hopeful that the lot of people everywhere can and just may improve over the next year, I present to you MY favorite carols. You don't see these on TV, you don't hear these on the radio, but they speak to my view of the holidays, What Christmas Means To Me. The world sucks. But even in the bleakest, darkest hour, you can find joy and beauty and fun and humour. So I close with words from some of my favorite philosphers:

"It's Christmas at Ground Zero." (Al Yankovic)

"Fantastic!" (The Doctor)

God/Allah/Yahweh/Someone bless us, one and all.

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