Every year, it's here - didn't you hear?

~ it's not what you believe, but it's wherever you live

In our Western countries - if that’s the correct label, countries like mine - Canada, and our neighbours the U.S. and Mexico have many differences, but we have the overwhelming presence of traditions brought here from somewhere else.

At this time of year, here where we have the prominence of many religious and cultural festivities - and whether or not we attend, believe, or espouse the views of any named group under the broad umbrella of religion, the traffic yesterday demonstrates that everybody was in or near a store, and store after store after store.

Storing up, stocking up, ready to feast - not fast; you’d think we were squirrels storing up for winter …

But after the traffic fight and coming home to find the phone isn’t ringing, the email flood of a typical day dwindled to a trickle - to the point you ask, “Is thing on?”

Seriously, it’s weird. I was working a typical Monday which for me is Monday and Monday night and half of Tuesday morning - a weekly publishing ritual and a struggle to get some work done in the afternoon or evening after I’ve had a good nap.

And, then, poof … it’s like I’ve got back-to-back Saturdays with nothing to do.

Of course, I’ve always got things to do - but most of those things involve making calls, sending emails, making a ruckus or fixing one, and there I was having a turkey sandwich which I considered to be my late breakfast and then I had a chicken garlic pizza mid-afternoon while I watched a movie. Then I changed into my sweats and ate the rest of the pizza while I watched the movie again and I had a few mandarin oranges. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, that’s Christmas Eve - and no, if you are wondering, I was not watching ‘Home Alone’; I was watching an outstanding documentary about an extraordinary Canadian success story/high-school dropout made good with mental health problems - the incomparable Howie Mandel. I’ve always liked him more than made sense, and now I like him more than ever and I think he understands me. Or, was that the other way ‘round? It’s on Crave. If you watch it you might not understand Howie, but you might understand me a little better …

And now - deliberately written, just for you in the afternoon, to give you all a special greeting for Christmas Day if that’s your thing, or happy Hannukah if that’s your thing and if you don’t celebrate anything, then Happy Wednesday … but it’s gonna feel like Saturday no matter what I write.

OK - gather around your loved ones, laugh and fight and eat and chase little kids around the tree …

These days - the ‘big D-25’ day comes every year. When we are kids we can’t wait. When we are overworked exhausted parents we can’t wait till they are over - and we know what we’ll write down as a reminder of what not to do next year but we’ll forget where we put that until it happens again next year. Pictures, exhaustion, dishes to wash and dry and ‘who should make the gravy next year?’ …

I’ve spent two weird Christmases in my life. The first one, about 35 years ago - it was the first year we were divorced, the first year my kids weren’t with me - they were with their mother. The woman I was dating then thought we should go to Cancun and Cozumel for two weeks, which we did. I recommend the trip, the sites and the experience of deep-sea fishing on Christmas Day and all the sites - but being away from snow, cold and home and not with family was weird.

The second weird one is today.

Out of 72, I guess only two weird ones aren’t so bad, all things and characters considered.

Why it’s weird is not for telling just now - maybe, in 35 years, I’ll tell the story.

Next year will be better - I’m certain of that.

For now, I want to do what everyone does; I’ll close with

“Merry Christmas to you and yours wherever you are, and I wish you a happy week and a spectacular New Year.”

I publish this Musings column daily and post poems, short stories and other ‘plus/+’ content weekly. Many of you enjoy this content for free, and I truly appreciate your readership. Paid subscriptions are modest: $8 monthly (26¢ a day), $72 annually (20¢ a day), or you can donate any amount. Paid subscribers get extra content, but everyone is welcome - your presence matters. But if you haven't yet become a paid subscriber, I'd be grateful if you'd consider it. Thank you for reading Musings, and thanks to Substack for supporting writers like me. Warm regards, Mark

This week’s bonus [Musings+] postings for access by PAID subscribers:

SHORT STORY:

POEM: ALL HANDS

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