This Christmas Eve, I Will Likely Save Your Life

By Timo Cerantola

Every year, I observe a very special Christmas shopping tradition. Yes, each year as Christmas draws near, I wait and I wait and I wait, until just the right moment, and then, on December 24th at approximately 4:31 pm, I begin my Christmas shopping.

What an exciting time it is, as I fill my Christmas shopping basket full of festive cheer. A time of jostling and roughhousing with all the other men, who have, by some curious coincidence, left their Christmas shopping to the last 29 minutes too!

Oh what a loving and warm festive atmosphere it is. Hordes of crazed, ornery, desperate men gathering together in department stores around the country to share a Merry Friggin’ Christmas here, a get out of my way shove there – perhaps even a celebratory poke in the eye – if that’s what it takes to get that last piece of Christmas trash into their shopping baskets. As you can well imagine, Christmas shopping devolves into a full-contact sport.

Still, it is under these trying conditions that I usually select many wonderful, awe-inspiring, well thought out gifts for those that I love so dearly.

Let’s see, last year I selected Donny Osmond’s Christmas Music Collection for the kids; a spiffy looking “Cheeses of the World” tray for my lovely wife (imagine, someone went all around the world collecting cheese) and a couple of matching tea mugs that sort of looked like naked elves dancing (well, I think they were dancing) for mom and dad.

Never the less, as a married man with nearly a quarter century of deliriously happy marital bliss under my belt, I have perfected Christmas shopping in 29 minutes or less. In fact, I am so good at this; I now feel qualified to help some of you lost men out there – so that you might avoid the pitfalls of Christmas shopping.

And so men, read on so that I might provide you with a few winning gift ideas sure to please the woman in your life. Yes, I will likely save your life. (You can thank me later).

Now I imagine some of you have already begun, if not, completed your Christmas shopping (you kiss-ass freaks). For the rest of you, who live by the manly code, “Never put off until tomorrow what you can avoid all together.” – allow me to teach you a new way. For I am a firm believer in the old adage, “Give a man a match, and he’ll be warm for a minute. But, set that man on fire, and he’ll be warm for the rest of his life.”

I imagine, as Christmas quickly approaches, many of you probably still don’t know what to buy the lady in your life. Well, do you?

Of course not! Only God knows and even He isn’t completely sure. So, what should you buy the love of your life?

First off, lets start with what the love of your amazingly craptastic life doesn’t want. OK, I can guarantee that your woman does not want anything that requires vacuum bags. She also does not want anything that slices or dices. She does not want a perfume that’s called “Garden Fresh” or “Fraiches du Jardin” – even though that does sort of sound French.

You’ve probably already established that she doesn’t want anything that smells like you. If she did, she wouldn’t always buy you cologne. But like I always say to my wife, if you can’t be kind, at least have the decency to be vague.

DO NOT buy your wife a toaster for Christmas. If you do, plan to leave town. Pleading, “But honey, it’s a friggin’ four slicer!” will in no way repair the damage a gift toaster can do to a marriage. In fact, in many states, giving your wife a toaster for Christmas is legal grounds for divorce. Still, GTS (Gift Toaster Syndrome) is very common this time of year. Many men, in an attempt to please the woman in their life, succumb to the ever-alluring draw of shiny kitchen appliances. This can lead to a Christmas disaster. If you don’t think things can get any worse, it’s probably because you lack sufficient information.

However, should you happen to make this unfortunate mistake, before this thing goes viral remember, this gift selection must be quickly treated with expensive jewellery and a seriously healthy amount of grovelling on Boxing Day. Fortunately, most women will agree that men are entitled to be stupid now and again – mind you, some of us do tend to abuse the privilege.

SO, if you want your love goddess to remain in your life, relatively free of hostility, here are some helpful tips when deciding what to buy her. If the gift you have in mind for her is dishwasher safe, has a non-stick surface or cool touch handles, your own handles, (if you catch my drift), will likely remain cool during the Christmas season!

If you want to continue living in blissful wedded harmony, her gift should be of the silk, satin, gold, silver and/or precious stone categories. Seriously, if you want to remain a living, breathing person, her gift should not be made of polyester, vinyl, aluminium or have a Teflon coating.

So, to further drive home the point guys, A Non-Stick, Aluminium Reinforced, Plastic Cheese Tray With a Handy Polyester Carrying Bag… is a very, Very, VERY BAD idea!

So, what does the woman in your life really want?

Well, your Venus in blue jeans probably wants you to buy her something that’s personal. Something that’s a reflection of how well you know her and how you feel about her.

Naturally, you’ll be tempted to buy your love goddess a stainless steel oven roaster, but resist the temptation, leave the small appliances department, and head straight for the jewellery counter.

When it comes to Christmas stockings, books, little tins of shortbread, music tapes or candy are nice. You may also want to give some token presents to her family – and this is an inexpensive way to do so. Remember, you do not want to offend her family at Christmas (wait until New Years for that).

Most important of all, remember, you don’t necessarily have to give extremely expensive gifts to ensure a happy Christmas. If your relationship is based on material possessions and their value, it’s not a relationship – it’s an exercise in wealth re-distribution.

Remember men, the main thing is to express to her your true feelings and give of yourself – but that doesn’t mean you should show up empty handed wearing nothing but a grin and a Santa hat.

A Fruity Version of Concrete?

Whatever happened to myrrh?

By Timo Cerantola

There are some Christmas traditions that confuse me. OK, I get the part about Mary and Joseph and the birth of Jesus. And I’m very okay with the message of love, the sharing and the peace on earth.  Peace on earth sounds like a great idea to me.

As for the Christmas lights on the house, decorating the tree, Christmas carols, Santa Claus, exchanging gifts, mistletoe and even that partridge in the pear tree thing – hey,  I’m with the program. All of these are a part of the wonderful, loving spirit of Christmas.

But the festive Christmas fruitcake?

Who decided that Christmas wouldn’t be Christmas without a fruity version of concrete?

It’s not even Christmas and I’ve already been threatened numerous times by fruitcake bakers and their menacing clumps of cake.

“What?” They ask in disbelief. “You don’t like fruitcake? Well, you’ll just have to try MY Christmas fruitcake. Everyone loves MY fruitcake. I have a special recipe. The secret is to soak your nuts in brandy.”

Well, that’s just weird – not to mention an awful waste of brandy. Hey, if you must eat their fruitcake,  just drink the brandy and keep your pants on (unless of course  you go for that sort of thing).

Sorry fruitcake lovers, but in my opinion, Christmas fruitcake is the black hole of the baked goods universe. In fact, some of the cakes I’ve been forced to endure, were so dense they commanded a significant gravitational pull.

I’m sure that one day soon, scientists will conclude that fruitcake is the miracle material of the 21^st century – with an almost indestructible durability that outlasts steel, plastics and all the latest carbon polymers put together. Imagine, one day, bridges, skyscrapers and even space stations will be made of fruitcake. Impenetrable, bulletproof, edible (more or less). 

The next Christmas tradition that mystifies me is eggnog.  What’s the story here?

For sure you can bet that the chickens are completely against the idea.

Personally, I believe that eggnog is an evil, wicked, nefarious plan designed by a secret organization known as “The Egg Men”  – the military arm of the Egg Council of Earth. And, as soon as these depraved, iniquitous fiends make enough money from their Christmas eggnog scam, they will join together with vegetarian forces and take over the world, or maybe just outlaw meat. One of those two.

Now, before you chicken farmers out there get your shorts all in a knot and start flooding my inbox with emails, complaining and/or trying to convince me of some kind of bizarre Christmas significance to eggnog, forget it. There isn’t any significance to eggnog. In fact, biblically speaking, eggs were never mentioned in the bible. Not once. So there.

As for you egg men out there, I’m well aware of your fruitcake torture techniques, but I am not afraid. I’ve been drinking a lot of brandy. The jig is up boys. Once I’ve spread word of this conspiracy of liquefied eggs and milk (with cinnamon and a dash of nutmeg), the world will finally know what you evil bastards are up to.

OK, I could be completely wrong about that eggnog conspiracy thing. After re-reading what I just wrote, it does seem a little over the top. Too much late night talk radio I guess. OK, let’s just forget that last bit and turn our attention to myrrh!

Yeah, myrrh! Whatever happened to myrrh?

Apparently, the baby Jesus got a major wad (clump?) of myrrh on his birthday. I never got any myrrh on any of my birthdays. Why did we forget about the birthday myrrh?

You know what they say; a Christmas without myrrh is like a… well… I already know what a Christmas without myrrh is like – and it’s not that bad! It’s a Christmas with myrrh that I’m not so sure about.

Now the dictionary defines myrrh as a fragrant, gummy substance obtained from various shrubs of Arabia and East Africa. It did not, however, explain what myrrh was used for.

I can imagine my Dad coming through the door on a cold and snowy Christmas Eve of long ago.  A sad look covers his face as he expresses his regrets to his young family that has gathered to greet him at the door.

“I’m sorry everyone, they were out of myrrh. We’ll have to settle for Bazooka bubble gum again.”

“Awww… Dad! We were counting on myrrh for Christmas. The Joneses are having myrrh.”

Anyway, I have a theory about this myrrh business.

In fact, I believe myrrh was a useless, insignificant substance until the Three Kings arrived from the East to give their gifts to the baby Jesus. The third king, upon realizing he’d forgotten to bring a gift, had to think fast. So he ran outside and grabbed a hunk (Blob?) of myrrh off a nearby tree.

Then, upon receiving the gift of myrrh, Mary, being the well-mannered and courteous girl she was, probably said something very gracious like, “Oh look Joseph, it’s myrhh(?) How very nice. Thank you very much. It’s what we’ve always wanted.” And the rest, as they say, is history.