TIS THE
SEASON
Here at the Prickly Heat Senior Citizen
Trailer Park and Public Boat Launch – overlooking Lake Flaccid, somewhere near
Lutz Lake, at the base of Viagra Falls, just outside of Gomer, Florida, is where
I live with my pit bulldog, Ginger. The other resident octogenarians have nick-named
me Santa Claus. Aside from the snowy beard of white, now stained by chain-smoking
and an occasional snack of cheesy nachos with salsa, like ole Sant Nick I too
keep a list of all those who are naughty and nice, and I definitely plan to
visit all the naughty gals twice. Hey, why is it when Santa Claus ‘♫…knows
when you are sleeping ♫ knows when you are awake ♫ knows
when you’ve been bad or good ♫ … they write songs about him - when I do it,
I get a restraining order!
While I may no longer be lively and quick
– the ladies love me because I’ve got a big . . . dingy; that can take six
comfortably out to my houseboat. I keep it anchored on the lake.
I am looking forward to a joyous and restful
Christmas having just endured the onslaught of relatives residing in my
residence and a Black Friday that had me risking life and limb at the shopping
mall. My granddaughter made it abundantly clear that her life would end at the
tender year of seven, if she did not get an Oopsie Doopsie Queasy Bake Oven
for Christmas. I certainly did not want that on my conscience. I enjoy shopping
about as much as I relish a visit to the proctologist; both are huge pain in
the posterior. Speaking of which, I traveled thousands of miles to pay a visit
to my elderly Aunt Louise, who can’t even remember what she had for breakfast let
alone remember me. After many hours behind the wheel, sucking back one Red Bull
after another, aside from the brief blackouts, I had ample opportunity to think
about the true meaning of the holidays. It is all about relationships. For each
person they can mean something different, such as an old spinster with her cat,
a redneck and his truck, a gangster and a gun, a hillbilly with his cousin, a
nerd and his computer, or a hermit with . . . himself. Specifically, I am referring
to those relationships we have with our family. It is not the food, or the
gifts, but the connection to others which means the most. The more I thought
about it, I realized I'd missed the rest stop and had to pull over and hike
into the woods to take a wiz. Afterwards, I came to the conclusion we do most
everything either for or because of other people. So, as you are dashing
through the stores to get a deal on a two hundred inch flat-screen TV or
roasting a beast for the family feast, remember in the end, it is the memories
that will remain along with all the bills to be paid. Happiest of holidays to you
and yours.
Contact ‘Dear Grizzly’ at www.mdavidlutz.com or email: grizzlyggus@outlook.com
Facebook page http://fb.com/grizzlyggus, Twitter
http://twitter.com/grizzlyggus
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