CHRISTMAS CRANKINESS

That's the short title.
The long title is SELF-DIAGNOSIS OF THE WARNING SIGNS AND SYMPTOMS OF CHRISTMAS CRANKINESS.

I was yelling at the television this morning and I thought perhaps, after some introspection, that I may be suffering from Christmas crankiness. The technical term is bummer-syndrome. There may be some other words that define the lack of ho-ho-ho, but suffice to say the symptoms are not always obvious.

I thought in the spirit of giving I would share my wisdom with you. So, if you have any of the following symptoms you have bummer-syndrome.

1. You are extremely offended when you see a commercial about Broadway's new release of The Wizard of Oz. You begin hollering at the television about the fact that the original came out 70 years ago and what happened to originality and that this Dorothy is a fraud and Judy Garland would roll over in her grave. All what seems like a perfectly normal reaction.

2. You are so angered by the above that you want to get off the couch and kick the cat, except you don't have a cat and getting off the couch seems like excessive exercise.

3. You start making a list of the worst Christmas parties you ever attended and you get stuck after the first entry. 1983. Pickle Lake. Host is in kitchen with pals. Flatulence and matches are involved and cheering the official song of The Blue Flame Club. As if that's not bad enough you were (I repeat, were) married to the host.

4. You've picked your snowman up and returned him to his position on the front steps for the last time. You are in the basement searching for the chainsaw. After pulling the chord for forty-seven times you give up and get a hammer and turn your snowman into kindling even though he's been your favourite decoration for several decades. Not any more.

There are a few others and variations of the above do occur, but I'll stop there. I was just outside in the blizzard looking for the end of my driveway. I had tied a rope around my waist with the other end tied to the backdoor in the name of safety. A man and his dog came along. The dog stopped to pee on my shovel.

"Are you ready for Christmas?" the man asked in a cheery voice.

"You bet," I answered. "Going to be the best Christmas ever."

I think that may be the biggest clue. My only remedy? Resort to alcohol or hibernation.

by W A Stewart December 10, 2009