“Have you seen the letters?” I overheard a girl in a hair-sprayed beehive ask her friend, who was wearing a skinny tie.
“Have you seen the letters?” I heard when I waited to get myself a spiced eggnog and some shrimp cocktail.
I was intrigued, and when Jim, our tall, rosy-cheeked, cardigan-clad host, came barreling up to me, I had to ask: “Jim, what are these letters everyone is talking about?”
OK, anyone who knows me, knows that I am the quintessential Grinch. I have no use for Christmas. I differ from the well-known Grinch only in that I don’t begrudge others their celebration. I do ask that they don’t push it in my face.
This year, I have an even more serious reason to avoid Christmas. This is, of course, the first Christmas I will spend without Barbara. She was as much Santa Claus as I am the Grinch. She loved everything about Christmas. She embodied that spirit, and she made me able to tolerate the commercialization, the gaudy displays, the incessant insistence that “Jesus is the reason …”.
All that said, the above linked article, and the related video, melted this Grinch’s heart, and made it grow three sizes. So now I am going to do something I never do. To you my dear reader, I say:
Have yourself a merry little Christmas, make the Yuletide gay. ~<Hugh Martin