So I’m biking to pick up medicine in South Philly a few nights ago, and I find myself behind a slow-moving flatbed truck, tall and wide and crammed with Christmas trees, and spewing vile fumes. And there are cars parked bumper to bumper on each side of the street, so I can’t ride onto the sidewalk and pass the truck. I curse at the truck — no one can hear me in the truck cab, I guess, this vehicle is huge, there are about 150 trees on it — and I picture myself, a curmudgeon cursing dead trees in the dark.
Then I have a vision of the truck jolting forward and all the trees falling off and burying me, and of the headline in the Daily News — “Local Scrooge crushed by Christmas trees” — and this makes me laugh, seeing myself from a distance, getting angry at objects, as if objects are purposeful. You can use up a lot of energy, thinking objects are purposeful. So I decide I’d better get into the spirit of the season, if only to stay healthy.
Or, as Tiny Tim would say, “God bless us, everyone!”
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You are, truly, one of a kind, David. Happy Solstice to you. (Thanks for picking a clip from my favorite Christmas movie — the right version too.)
Yes, absolutely — the Alastair Sim version is the best. The ghostly stuff is really scary and the whole movie has an appropriately stark look. Happy Solstice to you, too, Margaret. The turnaround day is almost here.
PS.. this — “I picture myself, a curmudgeon cursing dead trees in the dark” — reminded me of a quote that my daughter attributes to Rob Laymon: “It’s hard to be a cynical bastard when you’re being prayed over by children.” 🙂