Dear ______,
Season’s greetings. Christmas time’s rock’n. The Corn’s a-poppin'. Get a PFA if an ex is stalking. The late Kirstie Alley starred in Look Who’s Talking. Schweddy Balls in your Christmas stocking.
Christmas is here. It’s time for a cheer. Not that there’s anything wrong with that if you’re queer. I love a Bronx jeer.
Okey dokie, let’s dispense with the poetry. Resist the urge to scroll Facebook. Amid such digital distractions of our day, it’s a miracle I managed to finish this Christmas letter to you. But alas, the epistolary work of yuletide literature you hold now in your hand is a for sure thing. Perhaps, one day I will collect my annual Christmas letters in a florilegium.
I’m not knocking Facebook, though, because I’ll never again think of Christmas without my friend Adam’s posting of “Rudolph (You Don’t Have to Put on a Red Light)” or the picture of my friend, Dawn, dressed in a green and red elf suit, while standing in her workplace – an aircraft parts plant.
The place brings to mind the toy factory (I swear it wasn’t a sweatshop) I always imagined to be in the back of the rooms where Santa and KAKEman performed on TV. Watched them every Christmas season when I was a little whipper snapper. The realization of that being a long time ago brings me to today.
The year, 2022, was a milestone for both my kids. Sam turned 21 and Kenzie turned 18. It’s a little bittersweet to me, but it’s like Sinatra sang in a 1965 hit – “This ol’ world keeps a spinnin’ around.”
Well, Sam’s still in college, Kenzie is still in high school and I’m still seeing my therapist, Jennifer. We’ve been in this professional/client relationship since before mental health awareness was cool and I’m still not cured. She says I’m making progress, though, as does Julianne, the ANRP who prosribes my meds – “happy pills.”
Speaking of health, Kenzie and I didn’t start the year off on the best footing. We got a visit from Mr. Covid and had to quarantine for a week and a couple of days. We didn’t have any symptoms though because we’d both had the vaccine.
Then last summer, Kenzie caught Lyme Disease and had to be hospitalized for a week. A couple of weeks ago, I was transported to the ER because I had a corneal abrasion in my right eye. Kenzie and I are both healthy now. Oh what the hell? Our medical problems aren’t nearly as interesting as those of my girlfriend, Stacy’s uncle Ernie.
It involved his anus.
And taking a crap.
Stacy told me about it while we were on a date, having Asian chicken at Hibachi Boy. It seems her uncle Ernie had Proctitis – an inflammation of the rectal lining. The rectum has been described as “a muscular tube at the end of the colon. Stool passes through the rectum.” Ernie first noticed this condition while he was seated on the toilet, straining. A prime symptom of Proctitis is painful bowel movements. To add insult to injury, Ernie’s grandchildren charged inside the bathroom and started pestering Ernie at a moment when he desired privacy. He had locked the bathroom door, but his grandchildren had figured out how to jimmy the lock. Frustrated, Ernie yelled for his wife – Stacy’s auntie Jin – “Would you please do me a favor and not let em’ come in?” Jin then came to the bathroom, located down the hall from the dining room, and shood the children away. “Scoot,” she said. “Your grandpa’s taking a dookie.” Among other symptoms, Ernie suffered diarrhea, pain on the left side of his abdomen, pain in his rectum and a feeling of fullness in the rectum (talk about being full of shit! LOL!) There are various causes, but medical opinion is that Ernie’s was caused by antibiotics intended to treat infection in his bowels, which unfortunately killed helpful bacteria, allowing clostridium difficile to grow in Ernie’s rectum.
With medical treatment, Ernie’s condition has improved – his health is restored. His anus, rectum – all of it is doing better. The pain is gone and Stacy’s uncle Ernie is pooping better. Just ask his grandchildren, and Auntie Jin. (Chuckle! Chuckle!)
And that’s the story of my date with Stacy. Also, Uncle Ernie and Auntie Jin.
Well, it’s been a cool year. I’ve kept up my membership with Worthington Lions Club, the Wichita Groover Labs Toastmaster (I’m VP for public relations) and KWA (Kansas Writers Association). I was elected by a body of my peers to the association’s Board of Directors. Oh, I’m just BSing you. They put me in because nobody else wanted to do it.
I wish you, the reader, an exponentially merry Christmas. I know, I know. You can be strapped for cash. Maybe the love of an Angel Tree at Walmart is the only reason your kids are getting any presents. Then there’s the esoteric customs. Chestnuts roasting on an open fire. Eating figgy pudding. A partridge in a pear tree. What the hell is that? In life, it’s easy to get bah humbug, but underneath it all, don’t forget family, joy, peace.
Let’s be good to each other in the New Year. Be good to people you like and even people you don’t like. You never know where you’ll meet a new friend. Besides, I’ve heard being bad to people can play hell with your digestive tract. So be good. You only go around this world once, I believe, so make it good. Always be kind to your family. I mean, heck, you’re stuck with them. And maybe someday we can end bad stuff like hatred and war. Might as well give it a try. What’s to lose?
Cheers,
Jeff
Mele Kalikimaka -- Bing Crosby & The Andrews Sisters
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