touristmas time!

from TORONTO,
December 14th, 2007

"I KNOW! LET'S KILL THEM ALL!"

Oh my dear little chickens,

As I sit here in my cozy apartment with just eleven days 'til Christmas, listening to the ba-hoo da-hoos of all the Whos down in Whoville serenading me from my stereo, while cinnamon sticks simmer in water on the stove in order to fill the place with fragrant ambience and generally waste electricity as I write to you, I can't help but get that warm feeling in my cockles once again. That's right, my cockles are warmed. I may not know what they are exactly, but warmed they are, friends, thinking of how lucky I am to know such a lot of wonderful people.

And when I reflect further, on how very blessed you all are to know me......well then I get positively teary. Oh, you lucky, lucky bastards. God bless you, every one.

THE SPIRIT

So yes, I'm finally getting into full Christmas spirit. It comes late to me every year; I'm the one bitching about the carols playing in the stores week after week until I finally realize, Oh yeah. I guess it's acceptable to play Jingle Bells on December 23rd. And maybe I should start thinking about presents.

Matthew Edison (talented actor/playwright and fortunate friend of the Tourist) was commenting on the whole Christmas spirit thing yesterday. I noted that he was out wearing a green sweater layered over a red t-shirt (no pants of course) and asked whether this had been a conscious holiday-dressing choice, and he said that, yes, at this time of year he purposely tries to work a little red and green into his outfit every day. He went on to say that nothing brings on that holiday feeling like faking it for a while. Wear the red and green, put on the carols, watch the TV specials, and pretty soon you're running around feeling positively elf-like. I likened it to the proven physiological phenomenon that if you're feeling down and fake a smile it will trigger something that actually makes you feel happier. Unless, as Mr Edison pointed out, you actually have a damn good reason to be really miserable, in which case that theory is a load of crap.

THE SPECIALS
I have watched my share of the old TV Christmas specials this year. I might even try for A Charlie Brown Christmas this time, even though, let's face it - EVERYTHING ABOUT CHARLIE BROWN IS TOTALLY BORING AND SUCKS MY ASS. Except the music, which I can listen to on CD anytime without subjecting myself to a half hour of that bald little wet blanket and his boring so-called friends. And his smart-ass dog.

Have you ever noticed that the Peanuts books fall into two categories - those titled things like "It's Raining on Your Parade, Charlie Brown" or "Strike Three, Charlie Brown!"...... and those called "You're Our Kind of Dog, Snoopy!" and "You've Got to Be You, Snoopy!"? (All actual titles.) I mean, Charlie Brown, you poor son of a bitch. Everyone likes your dog better than you. Though perhaps that's pretty common among real people, too. A college friend and I once came up with our own list of great Peanuts titles, including "You're a Bald Little Boy, Charlie Brown", "Your Mother Didn't Want You, Charlie Brown", and my personal favourite, the simple yet brutal "Suck it, Charlie Brown!".

" I KNOW. LET'S KILL OURSELVES."

Back to what I was presumably talking about.....

Another show I've decided I simply can't handle is the 1964 Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. I just get too upset. I mean, not only is everybody unfathomably mean to poor little Rudolph, just because he has a birth defect......but they're mean to everybody else, too! There's little Hermey (voiced by Canadian actor Paul Soles), the totally Jewish, totally gay North pole elf who just wants to be a dentist and gets treated like crap by the other elves (which is particularly distressing because they're elves, for Chrissake - aren't they supposed to be nice?)....... And then even Santa's kind of a prick. At one point the elf choir, who have been practising all year, want to sing him a song, and Mrs Claus practically has to beg him to sit down and listen and then he's all, like, yeah yeah whatever I've got things to do and while they sing he fidgets and acts like an asshole and then tells them their elf-singing sucks. So no wonder they're mean to Hermey: they're working under extreme pressure, for a jerky boss who doesn't appreciate them. Bet they don't even have benefits.

At some point in this thing, Rudolph runs away and when his mom and his girlfriend Clarice want to help look for him they're told "No. A woman's place is at home. Stay here, bitches." Which always drives me nuts, because for one thing, they're not women...they're REINDEER! Anyway, they do sneak out to help look.....and they promptly land in trouble and need to be rescued. Because they're just girls after all. And don't even get me started on the Island of Misfit Toys! By the time Santa asks Rudolph to guide his sleigh tonight, I'm yelling at the television, "No! Don't do it! Fuck him!".....And when the reindeer suddenly let him join in all their reindeer games - well don't tell me you didn't secretly hate them and their shallow changeability when you were a kid, and cross your fingers that ol' Rudy would get his revenge one day and murder them all in their sleep.

So clearly that's one Christmas special I can't watch anymore. I'm getting upset just thinking about it. I need another swig of Nog and Brandy. Ahhh....mama loves her Christmas cheer.

One that's definitely worth the time is Santa Claus is Comin' to Town, another stop-animation classic (1970), about how Kris Kringle came to be, and notable for its weird scene in which the future Mrs Claus literally lets her hair down and does a musical number straight out of an acid trip, twirling around in the daisies and singing about free love. The animation in that sequence is insane. Also notable are a bad guy called Burgermeister Meisterburger and Keenan Wynn (of film noir and Dr Strangelove fame) as the winter wizard, who gets to utter the unlikely Christmas special line "Hey, I'm not such a loser after all!"

This flick also features a song by Claus (Mickey Rooney) called A Kiss is the Price you Pay, meaning that if all the miserable kids in Sombertown will just sit on his lap and kiss him, they'll get presents. Hmm. Don't know if that song would fly today. I mean, amazing enough that all the overly protective parents of today are still okay with telling their kids a stranger's going to be sneaking into the house while they're asleep - but aside from that don't talk to strangers, of course! Poor little fuckers must be so confused. Gifts, lap-sitting, night visits from one strange old man okay.....all other strangers bad.

OTHER CHEERY STUFF
Best Christmas movie of all time, of course: Die Hard.
I also really like Elf. And in Scrooged, Bill Murray does one of the best prat falls ever recorded on film. Highly worth it for that alone.

Best Christmas song? The Christmas Song ("chestnuts roasting on an open fire" etc.) Duh. I mean it's called The Christmas Song. And if you sing it with pauses in funny places you get to say things like:

Everybody knows a turkey.
...And some mistletoe helps to make the season bright.

Not to mention:

They know that Santa's on his way. He's loaded!
....Lots of toys and goodies on his sleigh.

I'm also partial to Baby it's Cold Outside. It makes me want to rub myself against things. See? Christmas can be fun in ways you never knew.

My favourite holiday image so far this year: About a month ago, went past the Eaton Centre Christmas windows on the streetcar when they had just been unveiled....and saw three grown men, strangers to one another, standing transfixed by a bunch of mechanical elves working in Santa's workshop. One Two Three: Awwwwwww.

My newly invented Christmas salad recipe: Baby spinach, pomegranate seeds, pecans, with a little olive oil and lemon juice as dressing. So festive in its red and green deliciousness that if you partake of too much food and drink at Christmas dinner and end up ill, you get to celebrate the colours all over again! YAY!

You will note that I keep talking about Christmas. I haven't mentioned Hannukah, or Kwanzaa or Winter Solstice or any of those other crazy chinky jew holidays.....'cause lets face it - I don't know shit about them, so I'm not gonna pretend that I do. The extent of my Hannukah knowledge comes from the fact that I was dating a Jewish boy last winter - and all I learned then was that all Jews are really really good at spinning dreidels and that if you keep one under your Christmas tree, it will keep them occupied for hours. I do plan to attend the Kensington Market Festival of Lights pagan solstice celebration (http://www.redpepperspectaclearts.org/) again this year, but that's just because they set a lot of shit on fire at the end. Seriously, it is the best event in Toronto all year - go if you can (December 21st, procession starts 6pm).

THE STUFF

I am trying to rethink my whole "buy lots of crap that no one really needs" approach to Christmas. I mean, my gift from my friend Kendra yesterday was a pretty little reusable jar of dulce de leche sauce that she made herself. I was happy as pie. After all, I really do need more caramelly, gooey ice cream in my life. And she got to be deemed my favourite friend ever without having to brave the malls or break the bank. So yeah, now you know: want to be my favourite friend ever? Give me food. Let the competition begin.

Here is the link to a film that I honestly believe everyone in the world should see, especially this time of year. Actually we probably should have seen something like this years ago, and taken it to heart.

http://www.storyofstuff.com//

It's a twenty minute animated piece about the hamster wheel that is consumer culture....it is funny, and engaging, and very smart. Please watch it when you have time. And then maybe you'll still head out in your brand new SUV and buy loads of crap that no one needs.....but not without feeling very, very bad about it. And so my work here will be done.

THE REST

So tomorrow I think I shall go and get the tree. I do love to kill a tree for my own personal viewing pleasure. And after the pleasant warm fuzzy feeling I got from helping Kendra decorate her tree as her baby snoozed nearby and I occasionally tickled her soft little belly (the baby's, not Kendra's - though who could lose either way?)........ I thought, hey, maybe when I get my tree I'll call my sister and ask her to come over and help me decorate. But then I remembered the fight that consistently brought about all through our childhoods. Every year the family would decorate the tree together, and every year Nancy would curate the tree. Seven year-old me would hang an ornament...and twelve year-old Nancy would move it. Over and over again, everyone would place our angels and stars and bows and see them disappear. Something about proportion or colour scheme or lighting.... Of course, eventually I became her eager apprentice, learning her (quite sophisticated) principles of tree decorating, and then we drove our parents insane together. They just gave up and drank. And eventually divorced. OH GAWWWWWD!

I have successfully evaded Christmas shopping with my mom once again this year. Not that I don't enjoy spending eighteen hours straight in an outlet mall..... but she also has this amazing ability to make you end up carrying all of her stuff for her, and you have no memory of how it happened. Seriously, my sister and I have both been amazed by this for years. It's some kind of hypnotism or sleight of hand or something; we have no idea how she does it.

AND FINALLY....

The advice of the century, just in time for 2008......

HOW TO MAKE YOUR KID BEHAVE THE WHOLE YEAR ROUND.

1. Encourage your child to compile his Christmas list early, say just after this Christmas is over.

2. Post it in a prominent location in your home.

3. Every time your kid does something naughty, sadly shake your head and say "Oh well, I guess that means Santa won't be bringing you this" - and cross an item off the list.

4. Repeat step 3 as needed.

5. Come December 24th, provided there is anything left on the list, buy it. If everything is crossed off, don't buy a damn thing......and enjoy your holiday, knowing that the coming year will bring you a possibly shaky, terrified and nervous, but incredibly well behaved child.

Afraid the kid will step up to the plate and be so good that he'll actually earn his entire list of ninety outrageously priced gadgets? Never fear: he will make a valiant effort as the list dwindles, but dwindle it will - no kid can be that good. And you can always resort to crossing things off for the most minor infractions. "Oh, sweetie.....you didn't tie your laces very well. You know, Santa hates that. Too bad he can see you."

(This plan has been parent approved, and is guaranteed not to backfire until some kid in the schoolyard informs your child that there is no Santa Claus and the reason he got nothing three years running is that his parents hate him. Then get the hell out of town and hope your offspring doesn't track you down. And don't come crying to me, lady.)

Well my sugar plums, Happy Holidays. And to quote those freaky little Whos in Whoville, remember:

Christmas day is in our grasp

So long as we have hands to clasp!

And if you don't have hands.....well then I guess you're screwed. In that case....Happy New Year! May someone buy you hands in 2008!

I simply must go (baby it's cold outside)....

The Tourist