Free invisible hit counter ProfShade: Bereft Season

Wednesday, January 19, 2005

Bereft Season

This is the hind teat of the year. Nothing, nada to celebrate. Yeah, I know, we reserve such national days of merriment for long-held religious holidays that were originally in direct marketing competition to usurp and suppress pagan fests, so they sure stand on a proud and unassailable heritage that we really shouldn't muck around with, but we do need some fun in mid-winter. I'm getting hives locked up here in the house with nothing more to do than shuffle the Christmas ornament boxes around in the basement and fantasize about that Easter ham. All we have is Valentine's Day, which is a bit superfluous in mid-winter, when there's nothing more to warm our loins than super bowl malfunctions and romance...hell, even Barbara Boxer is probably getting laid...or needs to, desperately needs to.
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We require a new holiday, and no, 'Abe Lincoln Was Gay Day' is not appropriate, and would lend itself to too many beard chaffings. Something amorphous, that everyone in the U.S. could agree on. So it would have to be meaningless. Tropeless. A tabla rasa holiday. Since all good holidays revolve around food, we'd find 'nary all fine feasting food is spoken for (turkey, hams, rib roasts, hot dogs) except Maine lobster. Elaborately distanced metaphorical activities need to be at center stage as well. Say, wearing hats. Hat Day1, perhaps. You give hats, you wear hats, you pull crap outta hats, preferably food or expensive gifts; some people incessantly wear hats on their asses, and this would be an occasion to relocate them to their heads. We have hats, we have lobster, now all we need is a clever myth with which to inculcate the children in an attempt to coerce good behavior out of them in the long, cold winter months, since their attention spans have swerved off their dollhouses, Tonka trucks and turned ruthlessly to torturing the family cat. We tell children their inner-most thoughts, yes Virginia, every thought will be heard by all on Hat Day unless they are wearing a hat. That ought to scare the shit out of them. They must wear them everywhere. In the bathtub. In bed on Hat Day Eve. Everywhere they must be hatted. And if they keep those beanies, bowlers and berets firmly attached to their heads all day, then The Haberdasher will sneak in the house and leave them better hats. And maybe chewing gum.

All right, so the hats are asinine. And not nearly as psychologically deforming to children as we'd like. But I'm diggin' the lobster idea. It's somewhere to start.2

1. Pictured: Jaxson Fur-Felt Derby
2. And no, I have not been 'paid off' by the Massachusetts Loberstermen Association or anyone else, unlike so many other lucre-grubbing, weblogging whores. The MLA has been proudly serving the lobster industry since 1963, damit.