Monday 4 December 2017

Three weeks until Santa brings the loot. We all look forward to this, but it's not the unadulterated boon one might suppose. First, the old guy checks his list to see who's been naughty or nice. Depending upon which side of the ledger one falls determines whether he gets switches and a lump of coal or cool crap from Toys R Us or Brookstone. This isn't an issue for Jan of course, she's Canadian, but for many of the rest of us it's a source of some angst. Just how nice and for how long? Is cleaning up your act a week ahead OK? How about just after Thanksgiving? Surely an entire year isn't necessary. What about that chimney thing? What if you don't have one? Can the porky rascal use a dorade box if all the hatches are dogged? How about when reindeer poop on porous 20 year old gelcoat? You think Santa's going to send elves back to scrub those stains out or that they could even if he did? What if he forgets to bring the right toy or it breaks? He's well over a hundred, no doubt sclerotic, and elves are not known for their engineering expertise. Does the old fart have a return policy or offer warranties? We live on a boat and don't have room for useless clutter. Well, gosh darn (or spicier words to that effect) we're not getting sucked into that happy horse manure hype this year. This year we're erecting a sign on the mast that says, "Beat it grandpa. We don't need your moral judgments or your crappy junk. We'll buy the stuff we need at big discounts in after-Christmas sales on Amazon and be just as naughty as we please."

Jack