I'm Monkey Pants, and I'll attempt to entertain you today although I must say that while Angelina and Heather might not care about what you think of them, I completely place all my self-worth in the eyes and comments of others.I'm in no way trying to replace your Dan. I just hope we can all be good, good friends.
::carefully making no sudden moments::
Don't hurt me. Okay, let's do this.
It is December 4th and the holiday season is definitely upon us. And by "upon us" I mean the holidays have thrown an elbow to the eye, a knee to the nuggets, bruised our spleen, tackled us around the ankles, pantsed us and then walked away with our wallet and our girl.
Now, don't get me wrong, I LOVE this time of year despite the stress, the crowds, the stress, the cost, and the stress. And the bruised spleens. Eggnog, carols, Christmas trees, holiday lights, and wanting to brain your fellow shoppers - what's not to love? Unfortunately, as I am a temp, things get extra interesting because not only do I have to spend more money this time of year buying gifts, I've lost four days of pay due to no holiday pay. Hurrah! At least it'll be a tad easier on my wallet this year though because I used to pay an arm and a leg to go home for the holidays from California, but now it's just a 60 dollar bus ride to Lancaster, PA from NYC.
I like going home-- Lancaster is a very nice town -- at least when no monsters are murdering little amish girls or 6 members of their family or the parents of their girlfriend. Yes, it's a lovely town. Okay, so 2006 was not a good year for Lancaster--I like to think back on a simpler time-- a time when the biggest news story was a fight over a nativity scene.
Some years ago a church in a local community put up a creche on a piece of land in the middle of a roundabout in the center of town. A protest started brewing because a lot people felt you shouldn't use public property for religious purposes. The church argued that the roundabout land was in fact their property.
Suddenly the community was up in arms against each other. People stormed the manger with signboards, banners and bibles. A candlelight vigil was formed on Christmas Eve and-- for some reason--the Hells Angels, the KKK, and the Aryan Nation showed up. The local news stations went nutso and sent out their reporters for live coverage.
[Gawd, I love live coverage -- particularly the man-on-the-street interviews. And when the Hells Angels, the KKK and Aryan Nation are allowed unedited screen time -- you're in for a treat!]
Let me set the scene. My mother is upstairs in my parents' room doing last minute present wrapping while watching the madness on TV. Dad and I are are in the kitchen making hot chocolate and preparing food for Christmas day-- also watching TV. (Sidenote- We like to have fun with Mom on Christmass eve and spike the hot chocolate we give her and see what happens. She's a terrible lightweight and I swear one teaspoon of peppermint schnapps and she's as giddy as a middle-aged woman drunk on peppermint schnapps. Usually this just leads to creative package wrapping but tonight it led to gleeful heckling of the television.)
Now, most of the man-on-the-street interviews were fairly unremarkable -- just the usual drivel. I must admit that for the most part, the spirit of Christmas seemed to be keeping the hate-speech in check. But then the reporter stuck her microphone in the face of a rather angry-looking redneck (be he Aryan Nation or KKK, I have no idea) and said, "Tell me sir, what do you think of the protests?" We all braced ourselves.
"Well," he drawled thoughtfully, "I gotta say that the church should be able to put up their menorah where ever they want to put it." He nodded to himself and seemed smugly pleased with his answer.
The reporter paused and looked flustered, "But sir... it's... a manger."
"Manger... menorah....whatever," he responded, unfazed. The reporter's mouth flapped like a fish on land. She then looked at the camera with a sort of desperation and after that, I don't know what happened because I think I was on the floor, crying. Upstairs, an unbridled whoop of mirth emanated from my parents' room, shaking the house. Because, really, isn't ignorant people making a fool out of themselves on television one of the best Christmas presents of all?