Updates for Friday, December 24th [2004]

Dear friends,

One man taught me a lesson about time that I hadn't really thought of until just now, and that was Mr. James Macpherson. When I was far younger, I wanted to learn Gaelic and translate his original copies of the lost Ossianic poems, and it wasn't until I was an old man that I learned that he, and the poems, were a fraud. I never said much more on the subject after that discovery, but the poems of the fictional character adapted by Macpherson was of a man who, as moments in his life passed in the underworld with his mistress, hundreds of years passed in the overworld, in his homeland, Ireland. I feel like if I get off my horse, and interfere with the happenings of this world, the time will catch up with me and I'll die as Ossian did when he finally ventured back home and fell from his magical steed to help two Irishmen move a heavy stone. Perhaps I can avoid the fate of lost writers and lost warriors... but I digress...

As I write this, it's the late eve of Christmas. I am happy to report that Sir James Roosevelt the Fourth is going to be moving out of our household, perhaps my personal Christmas gift after so much stress & duress on my behalf, to another apartment across the way (unfortunately I cannot export my good friend out of the continent or greater west of the Americas, and will still no doubt suffer his occasional visits). Daniel is preparing for the eventful holiday by playing "Halo 2" at almost all hours of the day, I try not to disturb him. He does not much appreciate the festive mood, however he likes the gifts. He also has devised a plan to acquire "food stamps", however I fail to understand why one needs stamps for food.

I've spent most of my last two weeks with Natalie, planning a vacation. According to her calculations, she spends roughly six thousand dollars on Christmas, the total expenses in conjunction with the annual lights and decorative displays, as well as her festivities with the locals. She even contracts a boy scouts troop to install a large snowman to match the neighborhood's decor, as part of their fundraiser they help out in the more affluent neighborhoods with such Christmas tasks. So I brought forth a plan, as I had been looking into the possibility of partaking in some travel with modern transportation systems while I am still here, to see the distant sights, and discovered that for merely half the total expense of Christmas we could forgo the festivities, and take a private vacation together. The possibility of the destinations alone was enough for her to concur, although she seemed a bit aghast to the idea of skipping Christmas. So we planned, and indeed it took a few days for her to finish up her winter break lesson plans for the students, and wrap into her vacation period, while she did that I took a lengthy journey to make the travelling arrangements, which I might add is a very fascinating process these days.

Then the trouble began. Neighbors caught word of our failure to participate in this year's Christmas celebrations and they were most upset. Walking that neighborhood, with the scowls and air of discontent, I felt like Napoleon strutting the isles of Saint Helena. Me and Natalie were walking out of her home, and met upon the Christmas committee, who were ensuring the neighborhood participate in this year's "festival of lights" project. Well, abstaining from Christmas, we were going to have no part of decorating her small house, irregardless of how unbroken the Christmas committee wanted the display. We thought that was the last of them, until many members at the behest of some elderly folk showed up during our dinner singing at our doorstep. It was strange, a group of caroling hawks, waiting for vestiges of life within our home. We hid for a while, until they left.

Then the boy scouts started in. First they tried to get us to buy a Christmas tree, of which we had no need. I told them rather politely, but they seemed indignant that it was a matter of charity. Having no objection with charity, but not being in the care of the finances, I consulted with Natalie, who was likewise committed to abstain from the festivities. We asked them to leave politely, vowing ourselves to donate the better part of the $3,000 we might save from the trip to a charity after the holidays, but they just threw down the tree in disgust on our lawn. Later, a gang of children accosted me at the door, demanding we set up our Christmas snowman decoration, no doubt at the behest of their parents and the Christmas committee. Never have I seen people so disgusted at a humble holiday getaway. The yuletide carolers returned again that evening and one slipped on our slightly iced walkway outside (from a brief cold rain that day), and threatened a lawsuit... being the "no-good" people we supposedly were, she was having nothing with our apologies for not cleaning the walkway, having no nevermind that she was not an invited guest we were expecting to walk up. We simply stayed shut-in for several days, enjoying a warm fire and the thoughts of our vacation, trying to dodge the chaos. It was then I decided to visit the local church to seek guidance with the reverend, who seemed to be coordinating the Christmas committee and the local festivities this year.

Something didn't seem right to me. Why did it matter if the display is grand? Isn't a religious holiday about the worship, and not the aesthetics? Might the money be better spent feeding the poor or giving poor children gifts, instead of on some idolic, monolithic Christmas tree? I walked home, and the children and adults around the neighborhood scowled, none waved as they would prior to the holiday season, either depressed by seeing me who did not celebrate with them, or depressed at having to be participants in a "joyous" occasion when there was no occasion for sincere joy. The dilemma worsened, and before I knew it, it was today, Christmas eve, just an hour and a half before the neighborhood block party, so I decided to discuss the reverend's proposition to join with Natalie.

Then we heard a knocking upon our door. I didn't know what to do so Natalie was the first to get the door. At our doorstep was Reverend Vogh Meyer and his wife.

Not less than an hour and we were outside, tearing down the decorations to prepare for our overdue vacation, when we met with the final confrontation, the Christmas committee led by none other than Rev. Vogh Meyer.

Bah humbug to the whole mess. Please accept my wishes of merry mirth and jollity during your holiday seasons, as I shall enjoy mine in the Bahamas for the next coming week. Your friend and humble servant,

- TH. Jefferson