Stick a fork in it

2008 has been one of those years you want to hide under the couch and forget about, like a cat hacking up a fresh hairball. On this, the five hundred and thirty-second day of the year, I've had my fill. Enough with the psychopathic Santas, the killer drones, the avuncular ponzi artists, the run-up to the meltdown, the perp-walk of public officials, the apocalyptic weather, and all the other rubble of civilization as we know it. Sheesh!

2008 has been so nasty one of the hottest holiday releases stars a guy in a Nazi uniform wearing an eye patch. Ho ho ho. Don't wait for midnight; bring the ball down in Times Square right now. The sooner 2009 begins, the sooner I'll develop some perspective on 2008. Have an undisgruntled New Year.

Sleep in heavily peace

The building that houses NCPR had its annual Holiday Do today, just in time to save me from a styrobox of Chinese buffet. The theme was winter morale food: fifteen kinds of meat, including my favorite--meat with lard sauce--plus multiple varieties of cheese, differing strengths of chocolate, items from the butter and sugar food groups, stuffed eggs, and a few festive sprigs of vegetable matter--for decoration, one presumes. Many people are going greener, cheaper and simpler this holiday season, at least under the tree. But under the belt, it's still "Laissez les bon temps roulez!"

Ancient wisdom is at work--no, not the scriptures, we're still nasty as ever--but the animal appetites. Winter is coming; store some fat. Things are tough out there; double down with pasta. Who knows when pomegranate chocolate truffles will come round again. Take two? Don't mind if I do. It seems to me that I was heading somewhere pithy and profound with this post, but suddenly, I feel a little sleepy. All the best to you and (yawn) yours, this holiday season.

Back to the table

I'm on the road today, bound for Boston, to one of those scaled-down modern Thanksgivings. Instead of using up all the leaves in the old dining room table just to seat the grownups--and a card table or two for the younger kids--we'll be just four. It's the way of the world. In the 1950s, you couldn't throw a rock in Bradford County PA without hitting one of my mom's relations, generations of them clustered around the gentle hills and good soil of the Susquehanna Valley. Same with my father's clan in Indiana.

Since then, decades of jets and cars and jobs have swizzled my family evenly into the long drink of America. Working in countertrend, I have stayed pretty much in one spot for fifty years, but to no avail. You move, they move--it amounts to the same distance.

My sister dropped by the other day with a big box of old family photos. And there they all are again, those missing from the table, the dead and the living, distant in time, distant in place--brought near again in memory--in sepia, in black and white, and color faded as a dream. I sorted out a selection to take on the road, to bring them back again to the family table, where even though the bird may be smaller, the thanks will be as great.

Lots to celebrate

People have a pretty good idea what Christmas and Hanukkah are about, and may know about Kwanzaa or about pagan solstice traditions. New Year's Day, however, seems to have no actual festive content, unless you count the wearing of lampshades. It's like the big signs placed at arbitrary lines on the map: Welcome to New York, the Empire State. The line could be anywhere. But if you are feeling let down by the end of the holiday season, cheer up--the entire year is holiday season. Here are some reasons to celebrate in January.

Among other designations, January is officially Celebration of Life Month, and California Dried Prune Digestive Month, and International Wealth Mentality Month, and National Clean Up Your Computer Month, and National Hot Tea Month, and Oatmeal Month. For those with shorter attention spans, January encompasses the mysteriously named Silent Record Week, as well as Cuckoo Dancing Week, National Handwriting Analysis Week, World Leprosy Week, and National Cowboy Poetry Gathering Week.

Or you can take your festivities one day at a time: the 3rd is Memento Mori (Remember You Die) Day; or Tolkien Day. The 5th is Fruitcake Toss Day, the 12th is Penguin Awareness Day. Not to omit imaginary creatures, the 16th is Appreciate a Dragon Day; also, it's Nothing Day. My list shows the 17th as Judgment Day, but we can hope that that's a typo. The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. shares the 21st this year with National Hugging Day, and Squirrel Appreciation Day. For those who find the notion of Celebration of Life Month too exhausting, they can just gear up for Celebration of Life Day on the 22nd. Next comes National Pie Day, the 23rd, cruelly followed by Women's Healthy Weight Day, the 24th. Or you just forget about what everyone else is celebrating, and throw a party on Freethinkers Day, January 29th.

In the family again

All week I have been looking at the home page at NCPR, seeing the holiday themed Photos of the Day, the winter reading list, a gingerbread house slideshow, the holiday specials schedule, etc. Everything you would expect for the holidays, except for the ongoing coverage of a dispute with our public radio neighbor to the south. I had planned to give the matter a rest today, and write some holiday anecdote here, such as an account of my marathon journey across the North Country in belated search of a Christmas tree.

Instead, a real holiday story has just fallen into my lap. As of 1:30 pm, NCPR has reached an agreement in principle with WAMC, Northeast Public Radio, that will settle the conflict to the benefit of all. Read the joint press release outlining the agreement.

Our warmest thanks to all who showed their concern and support. And best wishes to everyone for a joyous holiday season.

No picnic

Even with a late start, such as this winter got, by February the cold gets old. The brutality of northern February drives up depression rates, drinking, random acts of violence, self-slaughter. Clearly, a preternatural blowout holiday is called for. But the selection available to us is frankly depressing. Groundhog Day? Unpromising. We wish there were only six weeks left. There’s Lincoln’s birthday and Washington’s birthday, both now rolled together into something called Presidents Day, but where’s the party in that? Everyone has at least one president they wouldn’t celebrate at gunpoint; some have many. Discussing one’s views on the topic, particularly over strong drink, is not recommended. And then there’s Valentine’s Day, which is basically a bummer for anyone not deranged by the throes of new-found passion.

China and Tibet have the good sense to postpone their New Year into February. Dragons and fireworks—now there is something to work with. And Ottawa, on seeing nothing taller than a fencepost between them and the North Pole, wisely invented Winterlude. If you’re going to be hanging around outside chipping ice, you might as well eat some deep-fried dough. But if we’re going to borrow a celebration from foreign parts, I vote to borrow from the Buddhists. On their calendar, today is Nirvana Day. The possibilities are breathtaking.