Merry Christmas! In the new old-fashioned way.
D
ecember 25. Finally arrived at. That day each year when an eleven-month truce is finally declared in the War on Christmas. Do they have no idea how tedious this is for the rest of us? John Lennon was right. Find another way to make your money, and leave us alone.
Mother Nature caught the Christmas Spirit. Christmas morning found Charlotte like Cleveland found Lefty: cold. ("Pancho and Lefty" by Townes Van Zandt, for those who don't deal well with obscure references). Twenty-six degrees on the way to church and headed south. Only 25° on the way home. An attitude adjustment after the 60°- and even 70°-days we've been having.
It's still a little slow-moving down here. The service was the First Mass at Dawn, but we were doing the Proper from the Mass of the Nativity, namely Christmas Eve. They probably liked the gospel better: Luke's passage on the birth of Jesus—"Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men."
Only two of the gospels mention the Nativity. Matthew gives it about 300 words, mostly devoted to Herod. Luke weighs in at 400 words, dealing mainly with angels and sheep.
The traditional Christmas meal of eggs Benedict, hash browns, asparagus, orange juice and champagne followed the ritual shredding of the Christmas wrappings. It's been a tough year in the Skelly households(s), and family members responded with traditional Irish resolve by drinking to excess. In a matter of speaking. First time we finished a whole bottle of champagne at brunch in years.
Dad was pretty buzzed though. He had made a bowl of Martha Stewart's eggnog for the present-opening and wound up drinking it mostly himself. The kids were saving themselves for champagne.
Charles DaParma, 3rd year Latin and Greek teacher at Fordham Prep who taught a lot more than Latin and Greek, once admonished that when blaring Christmas carols outside to entertain the neighborhood, one ought eschew Frank Sinatra's stylings owing to the Chairman's lack of a public persona befitting the holidays. With all due respect, Dippy, he had the right pipes for this one.
This should make Ol' Blue Eyes sound pretty ecclesiastical, no? CeeLo Green and Rod Stewart in the house and bringing it just in time for the holidays. The late Charles Brown and Bruce Springstein stick their heads in each others mouths. Yeah, good music on the radio. Don't worry; the back-up girls and the drummer save this. Merry Christmas y'all.
