On Christmas Eve, Or Whatever You Choose To Call It

First, a very warm wish to all atheists: Merry Christmas. You have NO IDEA what that means.

Oh, you may think you do. But nuh-uh. The Grinch was WRONG. The true meaning of Christmas is not "Bah-hoo-dore-ays."

Christmas is a time for sharing hopes and dreams, with those we love or with others, a time for taking stock and looking around to count all the blessings we can find, and even some we can't find - count them anyway! A time to comfort ourselves with family, with tender moments, with gluttonous feasts, with spiced hot holiday hard alcohol beverages or whatever else we have handy. And for sharing hopes and dreams.

Hopes and dreams. I admit, this isn't where I saw myself, 30 years ago. When I was 7 or so. I didn't see myself here, where I am now, doing what I do. No way. I saw myself living the sweet dream of adulthood! Working my ASS off for the right to be LAZY AS HELL during my hard-earned off hours! Eating ice cream whenever I dang well pleased. Spaghetti night every night, if I wanted.

Wait, actually that's exactly what I am doing. Still. I guess the beard kind of took me by surprise, though. Never saw that coming.

Anyway: Christmas. Blessings. Whether they be family or sweetheart or mutton or gin, clasp your blessings to you, over and over again, lifting them to your soft, winter-chilled lips for air-kisses or big fat smackeroos, treasuring them, watching those blessings blossom into whatever, whatever they bloom into. Family into more family. Sweetheart into family, perhaps? Could happen. Mutton into fat. Gin into headache, perhaps.

And so I say, Merry Christmas To All. Especially Godless Atheists, Filthy Sinners, Living Saints, Moral Gymnasts, Martyrs Without A Cause, and Good Country People. The true meaning of Christmas is this: God loves each of us best. When your heart is infinite, you can play favorites right straight across the board.

Hey, God? Merry Christmas to you, too. And thanks.