Story 63: New Years

            Year 1:

“Thank you so much for inviting me to your New Year’s party!  I brought the chips and dip!

            “Awesome!  Just set them down on the long table.”

            “Sure – oh, man!  I brought the dip and forget the chips!”

            “Don’t worry about it; we’ve got enough food and we can use the dip for something else here.”

            “Thanks.  Guess I know what my New Year’s resolution this year’s gonna be, eh?  Next time, don’t forget the chips, ahahahaha!”

            Year 2:

“OK, this year instead of chips and dip I made pigs-in-a-blanket.  One-stop shopping.”

            “Thanks.  Do you need help getting the stuff out of your car?”

            “…No, because they’re still sitting on my kitchen counter where I set them down while I got out my keys.  I’ll go back and get them!”

            “Don’t bother, we’ll be having dinner by the time you got there and back; just enjoy yourself.”

            “I don’t think I can now, but thanks anyway.”

            Year 3:

            “I got the drinks you asked for!  Success!”

            “Great!  Set them down on the table here, please.  Do you have the corkscrew?”

            “I thought you said you had one?”

            “No, I said mine broke and you offered to get one.”

            “That does sound like me.  Do you think we could steam these open, or break them against the wall?”

            “No, I’ll do a run later, and we have extra soda.”

            “Please don’t let anyone kill me.”

            Year 4:

            “Chocolate fountain!  I even brought stuff to dip in it – graham crackers, marshmallows, fruit, and cups if you want to drink the stuff!”

            “Splendid!  I’ll help you – we can use this pot for melting.  Where’d you put the chocolate?”

            “…Son of a – !”

            Year 5:

            “I brought nothing this year, but I will help you clean up everything after the party’s over.”

            “That is the best gift anyone could have gotten me.”

Story 62: What I Wanted for Christmas

             This year, I decided that I would ask Santa Claus if he could bring me world peace.

            “Santa, all I want for Christmas is world peace – could you just leave it for me wrapped under the tree?”

            “You know that’s impossible, and adults really shouldn’t be taking my time away from the children on the line, so get off my lap before I call Security!”

            I could see that was a dead end, so I lit a candle at Church and prayed really, really hard for world peace.  The next morning, I woke up to the same old garbage: no quick fix there.  There is a crèche set up near my neighborhood, and I walked over there one day and consulted with its residents.

            “What’s the secret?”  “Baa.”  “You guys usually only fight for survival – why can’t humans figure it out?”  “Moo.”  “Is it that there are too many of us crowding for space?”  “Oink.”  “Are we all just born evil?”  “Cluck-cluck-cluck.”  “You’re no help whatsoever.  Say ‘Hi’ to the Baby Jesus when he shows up in the manager, would you?”

            Why can no one give me world peace?  It’s not a selfish wish, and everyone would benefit – is planet-wide serenity too much to ask for?

            I went to my family’s Christmas party and when I was given my baby nephew to hold, I saw that the clichést of clichés was so for a reason: looking into his eyes, I saw pure joy and contentment and I felt that all was well in the two seconds before he began screaming for his bottle.

            Guess I’ll just have to settle for inner peace instead of world.  Oh well, there’s always next year.

Story 61: A Christmas Carol of Christmas Present

            “I cannot perform as Scrooge in these anachronistic conditions!  Shelley’s cell phone keeps ringing, the construction workers are at it again with the jackhammers in the lobby, and that train, that flipping train, keeps coming by blaring its horn every 20 minutes!”

            “You’re an actor, Gary – block it out.”

            “Yes, I am an actor, Steven, one who is attuned to the world around him in order to fully embody his roles, and I cannot fully embody a 19^th-century moneylender when I am being constantly upstaged by 21^st-century ambient noise!”

            “I understand.  Now take it from the top.”

            (Clears throat and speaks with an upper-crust, old-fashioned English accent) “‘A Merry Christmas?  What right have you to be merry?  You’re poor enough.’  If that fire alarm goes off one more time, I swear to all the ghosts of all the Christmases – ”

            “It’s being fixed, Gary, just – focus.”

            “Easier said than done.  Ahem-hem-humbug-humbug-humbug.  ‘What right have you to be’ – I’m sorry, Shelley, but unless you’re an on-call physician, that phone really needs to be destroyed.”

            “Stake of holly through your heart, Gary!”

            “Shelley, he has a point – no phones on stage.”

            “I’m waiting for a call-back!”

            “Then we need to have a talk after rehearsal.  Continue, Gary.”

            “I forgot my place.”

            “‘What right have you to be merry?’”

            “Oh yes.  Can we skip ahead to the end?  My ‘Redeemed Scrooge’ needs more practice.”

            “Fine, whatever keeps this moving.”

            “Thank you.  ‘The spirits did it all in one night!  They can do’ – ahhhh!!! The train!  The infernal train!”

            “Gary!  Opening night’s tomorrow!  If you can’t do this, I’ll have to bring in Scott!”

            “Not Scott!  He can barely do a passable Bob Cratchit!”

            “Then don’t make me!”

            “Bah!”

            “That’s the spirit.”