POST PROPOSES PARCEL-POSTING PRES TO POLE

This post is honored to note the 105th anniversary tomorrow of a notable day in U.S. Postal history. Let’s begin with a ‘little’ background, which you can take as gospel because it was written by a Pope:

https://postalmuseumblog.si.edu/2013/02/very-special-deliveries.html

Yes, friends, for just 53 cents worth of stamps attached to a little girl’s coat, the precious cargo wearing that coat was shipped by rail in a train’s mail compartment, thereby saving the cargo’s parents a pretty penny in passenger fare. This got me to thinking about the possibility of saving money by restoring the mailing of humans via the U.S. Postal Service. Think, for example, of all the “border wall” money alone that could be saved by shipping President Trump to the North Pole to chill in Santa’s workshop, helping Santa make toys that insure children are happy instead of policies that traumatize them….or Santa could toy with the bright idea of replacing Rudolph’s red nose with Donald and his orange glow.

Now, I’m not saying The Donald is a worm, but if it acts like a worm, leaves a trail of slime like a worm, and glows like a worm, that may account for why so many have taken the bait.

 

WHEN YOU WISH UPON A STEYER

 

December 4 is SANTA’S LIST DAY. Yours truly having been a good boy this year, what better time than now to make out my Christmas wish list and tell Santa that I deserve everything on it? That gives me three weeks to be naughty while the old fart is busy browbeating and driving his elves to peak toy production before D-Day (Delivery Day) — or should I say, before Delivery Night. The way I see it, it’s not my fault that Santa won’t have time to check up on me — he should be a more adept despot.

Just kidding,of course. I don’t really plan on being a bad boy from now until Christmas…. and to prove it, my list will consist entirely of wishes for someone much more in need than I — a child so spoiled and naughty, he may soon be locked out of his WHITE HOUSE (depending on who holds the key to the outcome). The name of that over-privileged child is Don-Don (known as THE DONALD by those in awe of him — and who isn’t?).

But why leave to chance the chances that my wishes for Don-Don come true?

If not upon a star, maybe I could wish upon a STEYER: Tom-Tom STEYER, the billionaire liberal activist, philanthropist, and Trump ingrate, for help in suggesting gifts that Santa (perhaps with coaxing from Mrs. Claus, who could probably use a Steyer-donated fur coat) might deliver to the needy Don-Don. But it seems Tom-Tom is too-too busy donating  to causes instead of Clauses, so I’m stuck doing the dirty work all by myself. Fortunately, I have a pretty good idea of the toys it will take to get little Don-Don to straighten up and fly right, see himself for who he really is, and mend his lying ways:

Here, then, is my Don-Don wish list to Santa (additional suggestions welcomed):

1. A self-administered lie detector kit which gives $ for every truth and an electrical shock for every lie.

2. Smelling salts and a first aid kit to recover from daily attempts (which Don-Don can never resist) to sneak lies past #1.

3. A game of Trump Monopoly, which is just like regular Monopoly except: only Don-Don and family can play, there are numerous GO-TO-JAIL spaces, and there are no GET-OUT-OF-JAIL-FREE cards. 

4. A bully pulpit, complete with a bully who calls Don-Don a “loser” whenever something doesn’t go Don-Don’s way.

5. Don-Don finds Jesus on Fox News, has a revelation that he’s supposed to do unto others as he would have them do unto him, takes the Golden Rule to heart, astounds the world, and gives Sean Hannity a heart attack.

6. A new law permitting any President named Trump to be above the law (but only with the approval of any Special Counsel named Mueller).

7. A Presidential pardon for himself, enough enablers to keep him in office two more years, and a country gone to moral indifference and re-electing him in 2020. Hey, how did that wish slip in here? Could it be written in the stars?

 

TO V OR NOT TO V….

To V or not to V….  Verily, I wouldst
say, That is the question; methinks I shouldst
look for those old V gals wherever I couldst.

From what I’ve heard, there were at least three….
including one who’s as inViolate as she can be.
Now I remember “My Song” — will she hear me?

This time of year, many newspapers reprint an editorial which appeared in the New York Sun on Sept. 21, 1897 — an editorial which famously responded “Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus” to a letter written to the paper by eight year old Virginia O’Hanlon. Today I would further respond to Virginia that not only is there a Santa Claus, but Santa assures me that, just as in those indelible childhood days, he is coming back to wherever is home on the night before Christmas — and this time he hopes to stay, if only in spirit:

As for #3: They say it ain’t over until the fat lady sings. Far be it from me to say any such things.

None-the-less, and in any case, it’s over.

FAVORITE CHRISTMAS LINES FROM SONG & FILM

I hear that Dec. 25 is Christmas, so I’m departing from my every-five-days schedule to post a day early. For this post, I thought I’d make a little game out of several of my favorite Christmas lines from song and film. It’s simple enough: below are the lines; you name the song or film from whence they came. If you’ve been good, attentive little girls and boys, you should get all of them right; otherwise, I’ll tell Santa you’ve been naughty. However, if you’re a big, grown-up girl, I’ll let him know — ere he shows up down your chimney tonight bearing gifts — that you plan to behave yourself (unless you have other ideas).

 1. He’s making a list. Checking it twice. Gonna find out who’s naughty or nice.

2. Christmas Eve’ll find me where the love light gleams. [SONG TITLE] if only in my dreams.

3. SCROOGE: “Let us deal with the eviction notices for tomorrow, Mr. Cratchit.”
KERMIT: “Uh, tomorrow’s Christmas, Sir.”
SCROOGE: “Very well. You may gift wrap them.”

4. You can’t fool me – there ain’t no Sanity Clause.

5. Although it’s been said, many times, many ways….Merry Christmas to you.

Now for the answers:

1. SANTA CLAUS IS COMING TO TOWN  (song)

2. I’LL BE HOME FOR CHRISTMAS  (song)

3. THE MUPPET CHRISTMAS CAROL (film)

4.
Chico Marx to Groucho in A NIGHT AT THE OPERA

5. THE CHRISTMAS SONG

You say you answered them all correctly, and you want to know what you get? BAH HUMBUG, that’s what! Nonetheless….

 

THRICE AS NICE AS ONE AND DONE

Boys and girls (or vice-versa), we are on a 3-day roll, and you are in the middle of it: Dec. 4 was Santa’s List Day, Dec. 5 is Walt Disney’s birthday, and Dec. 6 is St. Nicholas Day.

I certainly hope you made it unto Santa’s “good” list yesterday. Not only is it bad if you didn’t, but you’re running out of time to change Santa’s mind before he comes to town:

As for Dec. 5, what would visions of Christmas be like without Walt Disney having contributed to bringing them to life? But frankly, boys and girls, who remembers his birthday, because Walt has been dead for 49 years! Despair not, however, because his body is rumored to have been frozen and put in a vault, like a reel of disintegrating old film, awaiting restoration when science conquers death! Walt Disney, as you know — now that I’m telling you — is said to have been fascinated with death since killing an owl at age seven (referring, of course, to Walt — the owl’s age at the time is not known). Whether it was the same owl who-o-o is seen in this scene is also unknown….but, oh, what a hoot:

That leaves us with St. Nicholas Day, which is celebrated, appropriately enough in light of the above, not on his birthday, but on the day of his reported death, Nov. 6, 343 A.D. As I’m sure you girls and boys have been told, Santa Claus is really St. Nicholas….or, at least (given that he most likely would be too arthritic for the job at his age if he were still alive), his ghost. What better way to close than with a visit from the old boy himself:

CHRISTMAS CAVEAT – GIFT ME NOT

When I posted THE TIES THAT BIND (Nov. 11), I thought it was a caveat emptor which put cravats behind me once and for all. But that was before my wife and other hangers-on started asking what I want for Christmas in the form of a wish list, which is of minor import compared to the things I DON’T want for Christmas — ties, of course, being #1 on that list.

The thing is, why should I strain my brain trying to think of what I want for Christmas when I have no idea what I want for Christmas….well, except for God to let me know if He really exists, because if He doesn’t, it’s high time the name of the holiday be changed to SANTA CLAUS DAY (inasmuch as everyone in Virginia and elsewhere knows YES, THERE IS A SANTA CLAUS).

So I’m going to do the next best thing (actually, the best thing): compile a DO NOT WANT FOR CHRISTMAS list — a list of gifts it would make me most happy NOT to receive. Anything I get that isn’t on this list, I’ll do my best to appreciate (provided it doesn’t explode in my face or need to be fed):

1. A tie (already covered, but bears repeating)

2. Fruit cake (surprise, surprise)

3. An old-fashioned clock (it’s ticky)

4. Taco Bell gift card (it’s tacky)

5. A “WHO YOU CALLING AN OLD FART?” T-shirt (it’s ticky-tacky)

6. A twelve-pack of tubeless t.p. (see my Sept. 9 post “WHEN YOU GOTTA GO….”)

7. A lifetime pass to anything (at my age?)

8. Belly button brush (not needed – I keep my belly button covered with Scotch tape)

9. Ch-Ch-Ch-Chia Pet (Sp-Sp-Sp-Spare me)

10. _________ (to be filled in the day after Christmas/Santa Claus Day)

 

GOOD OLD BOY

My kids haven’t been kids for many a decade. I, on the other hand, have almost decayed, but am still a kid. The old saying must be true that you can’t take the boy out of the man….at least, I think it’s an old saying. My memory isn’t as good as it used to was.

Anyway, what prompted the foregoing musing was a Children’s Books catalog I got in the mail the other day. Why the sender thought a V.A.P. (Very Ancient Person) might be a potential buyer of young children’s books, I can’t say — but upon perusing the catalog’s oft-amusing titles, I must admit I’m tempted. What young-at-heart reader wouldn’t be thrilled at the thought of receiving any of these books (words in italics quoted from book description):

ME HUNGRY! by Jeremy Tankard (sounds like he might be thirsty, too) — Book begins with a cave boy saying, “Me hungry!” Ignored by his family (“Me busy!”), he suddenly is inspired to hunt. But rabbit hides, and porcupine is too sharp, and tiger is too mean.
And you think you’ve got trouble.

DUCK IN THE TRUCK by Jez Alborough — While driving home, Duck gets his truck stuck in the muck.
Does duck have the pluck to buck such yuck? Or is duck schmuck-out-of-luck?

I BELIEVE IN UNICORNS by Michael Morpurgo — Eight-year old Tomas Porec hated school, hated reading, and hated stories, until the unicorn came to the library.
Why not? According to Dr. Elizabeth Mitchell of Answers In Genesis, the absence of a unicorn (mentioned in Job 39:9-12) in the modern world “should not cause us to doubt its past existence.” Tomas Porce was probably in a very old library in the very old days.

SANTA RETIRES by David Biedrzycki — Things up north are going south. “Sacks are getting bigger. Chimneys are getting smaller. And you never know what the weather will throw at you.” So Santa announces that he means to retire.
Say it isn’t so, Santa! Will Santa go the way of the unicorn? Come back, Santa!

There are more fascinating titles such as THE GREAT FAIRY TALE DISASTER and CLOUDY WITH A CHANCE OF MEATBALLS, but I’m already overwrought just thinking about the books I’ve already covered and wondering how they’ll turn out. Maybe you could order me one or two for Christmas. Hopefully Santa will change his mind and deliver them like a good old boy.

 

SAYS WHO?

I really didn’t say everything I said.  — Yogi Berra

Maybe he didn’t….but Yogi did say that he didn’t say everything he said — and it should go without saying that some say he is not the only one who didn’t say everything he said. Sad to say, no way can one say who said what was said in all cases, and always saying who said what one said is way easier said than done. Or so they say.

That said, the following is a selection of famous quotes not said (or at least not said originally) by those to whom they are attributed, along with some quotes which are correctly attributed (or so they say). Some mis-atributed quotes happened inadvertently, others deliberately; some have persisted despite attempts to set the record straight.  Can you separate the suspect ones from the correct ones?

1. Go west, young man, go west.  –Horace Greeley
2. Go West, Virginia, yes, Virginia: there is a  —Santa Claus
3. Win one for the Gipper.  –Knute Rockne
4. Win one for the Gingger.  –Newt Gingrich
5. A woman drove me to drink and I didn’t even have the decency to thank her.  –W. C. Fields
6. Forget your troubles, come on, get happy.  –Elysian Fields
7. Our comedies are not to be laughed at.  –Samuel Goldwyn
8. Our cold meds are not to be sneezed at.  –Dr. Don
9. Elementary, my dear Watson.  –Sherlock Holmes (Arthur Conan Doyle)
10. Excelente, my dear Sr. Muse.  –Ricardo Cahill (after bribe payment) 

Of the above, the following are attributed incorrectly (supposedly):

1. Greeley did write this in an 1865 editorial, but denied originating it, crediting it to John Soule’s authorship in a Terre Haute (Indiana) newspaper in 1851. Nonetheless, the Greeley attribution persists.
3. Actually, this was said by Ronald Reagan in the 1940 film “Knute Rockne – All American.”
6. Forget Ely Fields – this is the opening lyric of “Get Happy” by Harold Arlen & Ted Koehler: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VGk3tY4yP7k
7. Like many “Goldwynisms,” origin is suspect. Reported to be an old Hollywood quip pre-dating its attribution to Goldwyn.
9. Never said by Holmes in Doyle’s novels and short stories. Made famous by actor Basil Rathbone as Sherlock Holmes in movies.

How many did you get right?
You got all of them?
Says who?

IN WHICH I APOLOGIZE TO SANTA(?)

I don’t know how Santa finds time during this, his peak season, to read my humble musings (unless he has a surplus of elves helping him this year),but apparently he manages. Not only that, but he has found time to respond to two of my recent tomes in which I happened to mention him in a manner to which he has, for some reason, taken exception.

I refer, for the benefit of you unfortunates who have been less than assiduous followers of my every posted thought, to the posts of November 15 (PHOBIAS, SCHMOBIAS) and December 14 (THE AGE OF INNOCENTS). In the former, I used the term “Santaclaustrophobia,” and in the latter, I inferred there is some question as to whether the old boy even exists.

Now, far be it from me to purposefully offend the old fart with the beard-over-belly that shakes like a bowl full of jelly, but — well, out of respect, perhaps I should address the sainted fat man directly:

Dear Santa,

I have been a very good boy this year — no, wait. Wrong year. I was re-living December 1942.

Dear Santa,

I am in receipt of you recent elf-mail threatening to leave a lump of coal in my Christmas stocking unless I apologize for certain inflamatory remarks in my posts of 11/15 and 12/14. Ho ho ho. That’s a good one, Santa — always making with the jollies. Surely, you can’t be serious.

Dear Santa,

Just got your second elf-mail telling me not to call you Surely. Ok, OK, I’m sorry. I apologize for everything. Now, about my Christmas wish list, how about making me rich and famous? If that’s too much to ask, I’ll settle for Merry Christmas to all, and to all, a good night.

Love,

mistermuse

P.S. “You can’t fool me — there ain’t no Sanity Clause.”

THE AGE OF INNOCENTS

I always feel young people are innocent. [They] have a certain beautiful innocence to them that’s touching and remarkable to see. –Woody Allen

Christmas is for kids. As truisms go, that is one I find especially valid. It seems to me that even if you’re not Christian, it won’t hurt your young children to believe in Santa Claus. They’ll have to contend with the real world soon enough (there could be worse introductions to reality than the day they discover the truth about Santa). So, while they may, let them be innocent and without sin and believe in pure, unalloyed being loved. Isn’t that the idea that Christmas is supposed to represent?

I may be old, but I’m not too old to remember the thrill of Christmas mornings as a boy in the early 1940s. What did I know of the World War raging a world away, where young men of my age little more than a decade earlier, were now dying like sacrificial lambs because innocence was foreign to the forces of time. Life is short. Life as a young child is short beyond belief, although wishful thinking can extend the warranty indefinetly. I wouldn’t count on it.