Christmastime in Dummyville

Ralphie and Santa

I love this time of year. Although I live in Florida, the most un-Christmas-y place in America, when it gets just a little bit chilly (65 degrees… brrr), I jump into my Christmas mode. I’ve discovered that I can watch nearly every Christmas movie ever made, just because it’s Christmas. Between my wife and I, decorations start ASAP. We’ve got a table in the living room filled with Christmas nick-nacks, and even thought the cats play havoc with them at night, we set them straight in the morning.

Don’t know why I still feel this way. Every year, something happens that threatens my childlike Christmas feelings. This year, it’s the knowledge that it’s my parents last Christmas in Florida. They’re moving to Canada, which is like Rose Nylund’s hometown of St. Olaf, only stretched across a whole country. I’m an only child, so my parents are very close to me. Even though I’m a grown man, it’ll be weird not having them just down the road a couple of miles.

So, I’m going to miss them terribly. But I’m going to be okay. I have my wife, my animals, my handful of friends. Christmas will still come and go and make me smile at “Scrooge” and “It’s a Wonderful Life” and all that syrupy, wonderfully sentimental stuff.

And Santa, you bastard. I’m still waiting for that Shogun Warrior I’ve been asking for since I was 6.

Great Mazinga

*EDIT: A note to Canadian readers- Please don’t be offended by my comments about the Great White North, which is home to many relatives of mine. I took out some of my frustration about my folks moving away on your country, which didn’t deserve my “St. Olaf” comment. No hard feelings, eh?

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Published in: on December 13, 2006 at 1:56 am  Leave a Comment  

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