That's the Christmas Spirit
Last Christmas, Uncle Albert promised his neighbor, Wilson, to find a way to keep the Christmas spirit alive all year. You know, just like Wilson and everybody else wishes people each year.
Yesterday I was checking my calendar. "Holy smokes! Itīs almost Christmas. I better check to see if Uncle Albert found a way to keep the Christmas spirit alive all year."
So I put on my boots and buttoned up my jacket. I dashed out the door.
I came back into the house to put on a scarf. And some gloves. And a hat. And my long-johns. I filled up the thermos with hot chocolate and dug out a pair of ear muffs. "Yup. Thatīs the Christmas spirit," I thought as I headed out once more, trying to keep my head above the snow.
When I reached Uncle Albertīs, I could tell something was different. I wasnīt sure quite what, but I suspect it had something to do with the large red and gold sleigh parked in his driveway.
"Say, Uncle Albert. Whatīs with the sleigh?"
"You like it, Happy Guy? Thatīs part of my Christmas spirit," he enthused.
"It is?"
"Of course. Riding in a one-horse open sleigh. Sleigh bells ring, are you listening? All that shtick." he smiled.
"You think thatīs how to keep the Christmas spirit alive all year?"
"Thatīs just the beginning," he said as he lit up a candle. "Iīve cancelled my electricity."
"But why?"
"Have you ever heard of a Christmas carol with electricity?" Uncle Albert asked. "No. You hear about Christmas carols by candlelight, about silver bells, boughs of holly, all sorts of nostalgic stuff from the days when General Electric hired mice to turn the wheels of power."
I looked around for a Christmas tree. "So why no Christmas tree? Is that too modern for you?"
"Only the plastic kind," he said. "They keep dying on me. I was probably feeding them too much sheep manure. Anyway, I decorated the one out front."
"But you donīt have a tree out front, Uncle Albert."
"Right there," he pointed. "Across the street. Hey Wilson! Stop blowing out my candles!"
"You lit candles on your neighborīs tree?"
"Ha! A lot of good that will do me," Uncle Albert sighed. "You would think the ingrate would appreciate a little Christmas spirit now and then. Hey Wilson! Get some Christmas spirit, you overgrown porcupine pimple!"
"Maybe some people donīt want the Christmas spirit all year īround?"
"Donīt be silly, Happy Guy. Everybody wishes it to each other," he replied. "May the Christmas spirit last all year. But it never does. You know why?"
"Iīm afraid I am about to find out."
"Because nobody wants to do all those things they sing so nostalgically about," he harrumphed.
"Maybe we just need some new Christmas carols. Instead of trying to make reality fit the songs, why not sing songs that fit reality?"
"Funny you should mention that," Uncle Albert exclaimed. "I wrote one just the other day. Want to hear it?"
"Uh...sure."
"Here comes another Yule, letīs spend like a fool. Push īnī shove at the store, to buy even more. Light up the lights, thereīll be no star in sight. Turn up the furnace, this world we will burn it. Chop down a tree, chop another down with glee. Wilson is a grump, such a whiny chump. (Like the personal touch?) This year letīs all cheer it, Whoo! I love this Christmas spirit. "
"Thatīs very original," I observed. "I am sure there must be a market for just such a song...somewhere."
"Thatīs what I thought," Uncle Albert beamed. "Heh, heh. This could even make me rich, rich rich! Ha! Take that, Wilson."
"Thatīs the Christmas spirit, Uncle Albert."
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