Holiday Spirit

I finally got it together today and got the holiday decorations up. First I threw a hissy fit though, because my mother very nicely gave me a Christmas tree. She lives in a retirement community where they're not supposed to have trees or lights so they won't set the place on fire (my feeling on this is that if they can't be trusted with Christmas lights they probably shouldn't be trusted with objects of real danger, like toasters and coffee machines, but whatever) but in previous years my mother had calmly flouted this rule. This year, however, she got the tree, had the tree guys set it up in a stand and suddenly had a guilt attack. So I got the tree. Which is a nice tree. But it blew my fantasy of going off to a tree farm with the children in the snow, tra la, and singing carols, tra la, as our happy family cut down a defenseless piny forest denizen. Tra la. Of course this is just a fantasy, since in reality neither of my horrid children gives a good goddamn about Christmas except for the parts that involve presents. But I had my heart set on it, like I do every year, hope over experience and all that, and I'd even printed out the list of tree farms. I was leaning towards the one that proudly advertised that it had a restroom - it harkens back to simpler times, when indoor plumbing was a marvel that should be exclaimed over - when my mother called to tell me that instead I had just won a free tree, come and get it. A was vocally relieved, but I got all upset: I mean, how dare they give me a free gorgeous tree that's much nicer than any tree I could afford? Tobacco deprivation can do some strange things to your brain. My mother and brother had some pointed comments to make about the poor little match girl, waiting all year to go to a tree farm, so very few good things ever happen to her, boo hoo. Yeah, okay. I did take the tree.

To cheer myself up I went off and bought more lights with the money I saved, though, so that worked out very nicely, and it is a really pretty tree. After I did the outdoor lights (good thing I got new lights, since a bunch were dead as roadkill, including my favorite stars, damn it) I started on the tree. Tree decorating involves, of course, putting on a Santa hat and listening to Christmas music. It's supposed to involve the children albeit preferably smaller than they actually are, and cleaner than they ever actually were, and wearing clothes that they have never actually even owned. In my personal holiday fantasy I should be sipping sherry while my handsome husband puts up the lights and the kids, in velvet, say adorable Christmasy things and compete (politely. With no shoving.) to hang their favorite ornaments and we all reminisce a lot about Christmases past. Ah, it's a lovely evening. Or it's supposed to be. What actually happens is I drink a couple of PBRs (sherry is gross) and decorate the tree alone; A drives off in my car saying "Have fun with the tree!" and M plays World of Warcraft loudly in the other room, every so often running in to hang up an ornament and make gagging noises in reference to the Christmas music.

It's okay, though, because we have a new holiday tradition now. I found a copy of Santa Claus Conquers the Martians at Target for, get this, ONE DOLLAR. Yes. As M said with truth and feeling, "A dollar is a great price for this movie! I might even pay 2 dollars for this movie!" No kidding. It's quite a movie; it's kind of hard to know even where to begin or how to describe Santa Claus Conquers the Martians although it must be noted that the Martians have some serious outfits; the world was rather different in 1964 and, mental note, it's probably a good idea to omit the air ducts from the air lock when designing Space Ship Number One. It's hilariously funny for the first half and then starts to drag a bit (it would probably be enhanced by some serious drugs) and then gets completely surreal at the end when the evil, moustached Martian fights a very young Pia Zadora in green face and a hallucinatory toy Indian chief with a drum kit. Seriously. So, we have a new and wonderful source of Christmas joy and we can watch it every year. In velvet. Sipping sherry. Or maybe absinthe would be more appropriate.