The Confabulator Cafe

Tag: Christmas

  • It’s Snow Problem

    Karen woke up with dreams of home spinning around in her brain. A planet, a city she hadn’t seen in two years now. They bothered her as she sat in an alien marketplace, watching the hustle and bustle of the day. It was 80-degrees Fahrenheit in the area and she’d pulled out her t-shirt collection.

    Her friends Yarley and Lolali sat beside her. Lolali picked at a mat in her fur while Yarley tapped her fins on the low table.

    “Don’t you have snow here?” Karen asked. “I know we’ve had wind and rain. But I never see snow.”

    “Snow?” Yarley asked.

    “Who would want it?” Lolali asked, dropping a bit of fur on the ground. “The climate control is very good here. Rain helps the plants and the atmosphere. But snow? That’s just a nuisance to everyone.”

    “I like snow,” Karen said. She was a great lover of all things that others found a nuisance. She felt she had to speak up for it. “Besides, it’s traditional at Christmas. At least on my part of the planet back home it’s traditional.”

    “It’ll never happen here,” Lolali said.

    “Why not?” Karen asked.

    “Because your people don’t have the political clout to convince someone to reprogram the climate control system just for you. Your snow holidays happen at the same time as another race’s monsoon days, and still another’s dry days.”

    “Besides, snow is awful,” Yarley added. “How can your people like to be cold? Is it the fur?”

    “Well I have to do something,” Karen said. “I need Christmas-ish things around.” (more…)

  • What Kind of Mother

    I had thought I was doing right by Levi—I took him to church, to concerts, museums—but here is a severed rat leg telling me otherwise. (more…)

  • All the Whos in Whoville

    The very first book I learned to read on my own was How the Grinch Stole Christmas. I still love that book— I even have “You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch” on my iPod.

    I have the reputation of being the family Grinch. Not because I’m trying to ruin anybody else’s holiday, but because I can never think of anything to put on my Christmas wish list. The truth of the matter is that I have everything I need and most of what I want, and bringing anything else into the house just adds to the clutter. Or else it would be a purchase so idiosyncratic that I want to pick it out myself.

    Quite frankly, my idea of the perfect holiday is Thanksgiving, or Memorial Day, or maybe even the Fourth of July. You hopefully get to take the day off of work, get together with friends and family, cook an elaborate meal, and eat leftovers for a week. Perhaps there’s a parade, or a concert in the park. (more…)

  • The Musician

    I love the holidays, and I’ve always been moved by the charity of people at this time of the year. Stories of generosity have a way of hitting me on an emotional level, and I always want to share them with others. My hope is that if a tale of giving can bring out the charitable side in even a single person, then it has done its job.

    When I was a kid growing up, I had an uncle who used to read us the same letter every Christmas.  Written by a distant cousin, it told the story of how one late night encounter with a musician changed the way their family celebrated the holidays. Here is his letter:

    Several years ago, my wife and I were traveling across the state with our first child through a snowy Wisconsin night. We had been visiting her parents for the holidays, and we were driving on a lonely stretch of highway. With an hour or more to go, we noticed a young man walking the side of the highway thumbing for a ride. My wife asked me to pull over and we offered him a ride. (more…)

  • Holiday Slippage

    a-charlie-brown-christmasI have a confession to make. For much of my life, I was a Christmas Eve shopper. Not because I procrastinated or because I was a Scrooge, but because money was paycheck-to-paycheck, and only that last check before the holiday allowed me to buy presents. Christmas isn’t cheap, and other extra things had to come out of those prior checks—extra food supplies like flour and chocolate chips, a Christmas tree, gifts for work parties.

    Every spare penny was already earmarked for something.

    I was fast at it. By the time I got to the mall on Christmas Eve, I knew what I needed to buy. I’d get it done in record time, then be up until midnight or two in the morning wrapping everything. (more…)

  • Looking for a Christmas Drinking Buddy

    Merry Christmas? Why the hell are you reading this? Go spend time with your family!

    Unless you’re like me and alone for the holidays. Wow. That was depressing. Sorry. But then, if you’re sneaking on the internet when you should be having Christmas brunch with your parents, you deserve it. If you’re sitting by yourself, I’ve got a couple of bottles of wine in the fridge, come on over and we can split them.

    Ever since my parents’ divorce, scheduling holidays has been tricky. When I was still living at home, it was easier, because they lived about forty-five minutes away from each other, so I could feasibly see both of them for the day. Then I went off to college, and I purposefully chose a college that wasn’t close by to either of my family members. Suddenly I had to decide which parent to spend which holiday with. (more…)

  • A Bright Spot in the Darkness

    Photo belongs to Digital Blasphemy
    Photo belongs to Digital Blasphemy

    I am something of a holiday junky: I enthusiastically celebrate them all.

    But I really love Christmas. I am one of those people that everyone hates who starts listening to Christmas music the second Thanksgiving is over. I fight with myself every year to wait until the first day of December to put up lights and decorations.

    However, Christmas means something a little different to me than a lot of people. I’m not religious. I don’t celebrate Christmas as a Christian celebration. I should probably call it something different, but I feel that the idea of Christmas has evolved to the point where it can mean whatever we want it to mean these days. (more…)

  • My Wife Still Believes (in Humanity)

    In my house, my wife is the Christmas lady. Everything this holiday entails: music, lights, decorations, presents. She’s all in, every year, and she loves it.

    I’m more of a Halloween man, myself. Give me rolling fog on a spooky night while you’re holed up in a creepy old house and I’m a happy camper. That probably makes me the darker half of our marriage, but for whatever reason it seems to work.

    That being said, I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that my wife’s enthusiasm always manages to rub off on me. I may start December in full-on Grinch mode, but by the end of the second week, I’m playing Christmas music and asking about this year’s family ornament.

    I think what makes my wife’s holiday spirit so infectious is the sheer joy she gets from shopping for others. She’s one of those weird people who spend more time thinking about the receiver of the gift than the gift itself.

    I don’t possess this trait. Nor do I fully understand it.

    (more…)

  • Holiday Happenings (Week Ending Dec. 29)

    Christmas backgroundAs you are probably well aware (unless you’re reading this from some cave far removed from civilization), Christmas is celebrated in much of the world this week. Here in America, our holiday season begins with Thanksgiving in November and doesn’t end until the New Year next week.

    The holiday season means different things to different people. Where I work, it can mean a slow-down in business or a last-minute rush to get client work finished by the end of the year. For some it’s a time of excess, as we give in to our fondness for rich foods, candies, pies, and fine wines. I know that I spend the holidays enjoying as much hot chocolate with marshmallows as my body can stand.

    This week, we’ve asked our writers what the holiday season means to them. Do they love this time of year or hate it? Are the holidays a time of coming together or pulling apart?

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    Until Next Week,

    The Cafe Management

  • Saint Nick o’ Time

    Living Room — Christmas Eve, 1980

    I sweep my flashlight across the bounty of gift-wrapped packages, searching for one particular box. I’m careful not to step on the squeaky floor boards next to the tree. I know each of them by heart. I pick up boxes, checking labels, gauging weight and size. I’m careful to put each box back in the exact same spot it occupied before. Leave no evidence.

    This isn’t my first rodeo. Pre-Christmas snooping is an art form, and I’m a virtuoso.

    I don’t see it.

    I start my second search, but my heart is sinking. Could I be missing it, somehow? I know the dimensions of the box by heart. I’ve picked it up and stared at the box art more times than I can count. I’d recognize it if I saw it, even beneath gaudy Christmas wrapping paper. (more…)