I love Norman Rockwell. I do. Really. I used to work in an art gallery that exhibited and sold his original oil paintings, and he’s a very skilled artist, no question at all.
But sometimes when I see these kinds of saccharine holiday images, I can’t help wishing that the Zombies will show up. Soon.
My holiday tastes run more along Pagan lines. Since the Druids had the holiday first, I figure they're the ones most deserving of all of the winter solstice reverence.
In this photo of last year’s holiday crèche we have Rudolph and Hermie being devoured by the Bumble as Yukon Cornelius and one of the Misfit Toys look on helplessly.
I call it “A Merry Christmas for the Bumble.”
Which illustrates my point... Christmas is all a matter of perspective.
My friend Shani understands. Check out this cool holiday decoration she made for me. As far as I’m concerned, this little artistic effort just screams Christmas. The operative word here being “screams.”
Finally, one woman picked up my charming little parcel, and I thought, “Oh, good! My adorable ornaments have finally found a home!”
And then she hid my packet of ornaments behind the centerpiece. You heard me. She hid them.
If I could have stopped laughing long enough, I might have been upset.
Instead, I picked up my bag, went to the table, scooped my ornaments in, and headed for the door. When the hostess stopped me and asked if I had picked up some ornaments from the exchange table, I said that I thought I’d gotten the best ones.
On Monday I’ll be doing some Christmas crafting with ladies that better understand my style. For instance, one of the partygoers insists that “fondue” is a craft. And I’m not going to argue with her because then I wouldn’t get any fondue.
Maybe I can insist that my (now infamous) Jolly Rancher infused vodka is a craft, too.