Now it can be told (part 36,739)...

...Santa Claus is a commie bastard. I was right all along.

Today started out cold, gloomy and rainy. Later, the rain stopped...



Now, it's cold and, of course, dark. Windy as hell, too.

Whatever local stops ol' St Nick made didn't include my pad. Maybe I should have left a shot of Jim Beam out for him after all. Or maybe he just didn't get my requests....

A friend suggested that we take in a movie this morning, which we did. My two-word review of "Marley and Me" follows: don't bother. I have nothing at all against movies with dogs in 'em, but neither the two leading human characters nor the dog give you much reason to like them. I hear the book from which the movie was made is excellent, though.

This afternoon, my musician friend R. called. That's always a real pleasure. I spent some time talking with him, and then talked with his dad, who is (*coughs*) more my age. It's good to talk to people who share your interests*, and happen to be nice, fun folks into the bargain.

I'm giving my favorite Christmas recordings one last listen before they go back on the shelf for another year.

And then it will be December 26, and all I will have to do is make it through New Year's before returning to the usual routine.

I hope your Christmases were far more rewarding!

I gotta tell you, though, if I leave a snack out for Santa (that commie bastard!) next year, he better bring someone along to taste it first to make sure I haven't laced it with anything, Jim.


* I have long since learned not to be bitterly jealous of the musical talent both display. It must be genetic; when I first heard R.'s father perform, it was apparent where the kid got his phenomenal chops. But I forgive them for being so accomplished musically, while I am -- and always will be -- a hack. I usually forgive them, that is....