A Rainy Little Christmas

Gainesville

Well, we have an injured person in the house. Bill was reading last night, didn't realize one of his feet had fallen asleep, got up and promptly fell, spraining one ankle and bruising a hip. (Who knew reading was such a dangerous sport!) After a miserable night, he hobbled off to work in the morning (a meeting he just couldn't miss). His ankle was so swollen he couldn't get any of his work shoes on, so he wore his sneakers and jeans. With a shirt, tie, red vest and blazer on the top, and leaning on his gnarly walking stick, he cut quite the colorful figure. He was sent home at noon-- his fellow Dirs couldn't handle the spectacle, I guess.

I ventured out in the afternoon for some last minute elfing. Most importantly, I needed to pick up another box of cards. No matter what I did, I couldn't make 45 cards stretch into the 55 I needed. We now have some bizarre cat cards to supplement the Met card. Most of the readers of this blog will see the Met card. If interested in also seeing a bizarre cat card, let me know, as I'll have many left over. So far, I have about 15 cards addressed over the past two days. I'll be lucky to have them done by the end of the year. The canned letter is not finished-- that will go to about 15 of my friends, and of course will need to be somewhat personalized. That will take even longer.

Have I ever mentioned how much I hate the holidays? Oh-- well, never mind then.

The venture was more eventful than necessary. Since Bill was home, I took Moonbeam. While on the road, it started to rain, which made me realize I'd never driven Moonbeam in the rain before. I found the lights, but where the frak were the wipers?! After punching and twisting everything in sight, I finally got them going so I could SEE where I was going.

Once there (the Butler Plaza area), I found a Zoo of overflowing parking lots and traffic jams. I decided the only reasonable strategy was to park one time, and walk long distances, returning through the dangerous vehicular free-for-alls after each mission to deposit the spoils. Most of the time it wasn't raining.

But ... there was no way out! All my usual strategies were choked and backed up beyond recognition. Everyone was cranky and rude. I finally decided just to take my usual default route, but to NOT be cranky, rude, or otherwise impatient. Just go where I needed to go and be as polite as possible. It worked! I got out, and headed home on my usually quiet backroads.

Except, as soon as we escaped the Butler congestion, it was NOT quiet. No traffic to speak of, but very noisy in the car. Thought it might be engine trouble, but it went on even when stopped, and was clearly independent of the engine. It sounded like a window was open-- didn't see that one was, though. Finally, as I was turning left at 34th and Williston Road, I realized the tailgate window was wide open -- and at the same time, saw that Moonbeam's dashboard had a message telling me so! D'oh! I made the first available right turn and pulled the window closed. Apparently, in the rain, I'd accidentally unlocked both the tailgate AND it's window, but had not reclosed the window. The first bump I drove over, the window popped open.

As I got ready to pull out again, I saw that the tailgate's wiper was going. It had long since stopped raining. I couldn't figure out how to get it to stop! Thank god I didn't have anyone with me to witness this multi-fiasco.

Yes, the Wind and Weather box is from me, Mom. As soon as I saw it, I thought, there's stuff Mom would like. I should have realized you'd have seen the catalog too.

It started raining in earnest later this evening, just about the time the cat usually goes out for her evening stroll. Even some thunder with it-- in the low 80's again here. Rain off and on the rest of the night, dripping in between. Have a soggy, boggy Christmas. I hear the folks of Moscow are highly incensed that they are having their warmest Christmas in recorded history-- not a trace of snow to brighten up the dreariness.

Which reminds me. I've long ranted about how the modern version of "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" sweetens up the melancholy original, especially the line "Until then we'll have to muddle through somehow." What I didn't realize was that the REAL original, which was to be used in the movie "Meet Me in St. Louis," was so very much darker than that! According to the latest Entertainment Weekly, here's how the song was first written:

Have yourself a merry little Christmas
It may be your last
Next year we may all be living in the past

Have yourself a merry little Christmas
Pop that champagne cork
Next year we may all be living in New York

No good times like the olden days
Happy golden days of yore
Faithful friends who were dear to us
Will be near to us no more

But at least we all will be together
If the Lord allows
From now on, we'll have to muddle through somehow
So have yourself a merry little Christmas now

Is that not the biggest bummer of a Christmas song ever? Yes. And one of truest. No wonder it has been censored ever since it was written-- first of all by Judy Garland, who thought it was too bleak for the movie and demanded the rewrite, and later by Frank Sinatra, who knew what would sell in the long term and what wouldn't. It's a tribute to the plaintive melody and the core backbone of the lyric which survives that the hidden meaning of the song still resonates with people who find the relentless cheer of the holidays an ordeal. And that's what makes it the second-most popular Christmas song this year. Come next year, who knows, maybe first.

I see there is still some night left-- good it's a long one. Maybe I should sleep. Some.