Call me a Grinch, if you will, but I don’t celebrate Christmas (or Hanukkah, or Kwanzaa, or any other religion-based holiday); I do, however celebrate—cerebrate would be more precise—the winter solstice, the New Year, the Spring Equinox, Mother’s Day, Memorial Day, Father’s Day, the Summer Solstice, Independence Day, Labor Day, and the Autumn Equinox, in that order.
How, you ask, can I not celebrate Christmas? That’s an easy question to answer; I’m not a believer. Jesus was the Prototypical Hippie, and he died not for my sins but because he was an enemy of the State. Get over it.
Why I came to be a non-believer requires a longer answer. For brevity’s sake, suffice to say that observation and experience led me to my current belief system (if it can be called that), the influences of Christ, Marx, Woods, and Wei notwithstanding.
Still, for most people it’s the holiday season, so I’d like to take this opportunity to express my love and deep appreciation for the family and friends who have enriched my life. These include parents and grandparents, siblings, children and grandchildren, aunts and uncles, nieces and nephews, in-laws and outlaws, cousins, friends, mentors and teachers, associates and coworkers (damn that word, can anyone tell me what a “cow orker” is?) and others who touched my life in ways that contributed to the Phil Hanson persona. This space is dedicated to you.
Roy & Sally
Tanya & Jim, Mike & Terra, and Jackie & Steve
Joe & Amber, Destiny, Mariah, and Levi
Ariel, Naomi, and Michaela
Lucas and Kanen
Doug, Mo & Paula, and Jake
Marge, Bud, and Bruce
Tom & Donna
Richard & Linda
Daryl & Tori
Jim, Jim, Jim, and James
Dennis and Dennis
Bill and Bill
Clark, Alan, and Dan
Ron & Irma
. . . and many others too numerous to add to this short list.
Some of these have slipped off the edge of my radar screen, and some have slipped over the edge into the Great Beyond. Regardless of their whereabouts or present state of being, I want them all to know that they are remembered. I wish them all (and you) a Harry Kwanukkahmas.
And for George DUHbya (that’s right, it’s spelled with a capital DUH) Bush supporters, global warming deniers, and oil-addicted pro-war fanatics, I wish you all a . . .
Now, it’s time to cerebrate. See you all next year.