whatdayasay?

 I have been hearing  one of my uncles lately. He died a few years ago.

I’m not sure why I keep hearing his greeting “whatdayasay?”

I don’t remember that he loved Christmas. In fact, I recently heard he hated carols. The only Christmas memory I have of him was when he scooped  up the used wrapping paper one year, disappeared for a bit, and returned with newly wrapped presents. Well that, and he bought us Missile Command for the Atari 2600.

I am glad too hear it, though. Most stories surrounding him make me laugh, and holidays rarely leave me laughing.

Merry Christmas

Let me start by addressing the elephant in the Nativity (No, I don’t have a Babar figure, although …).

Two of the angels are still in their packaging.

Honestly, though, I just like how it looks. I am under no illusions that my nephew or niece will be able to retire by selling them.

Also, I was watching NewsRadio recently, and after Andy Dick’s Matthew got fired, the team was recalling Matthew’s favorite holiday traditions. One was making a Nativity out of Marvel action figures. On the one hand, Matthew is a dork. On the other, what a grand tradition.

Now that those are out of the way:

From left, we start with Santa, then a couple of California raisins. Santa is obvious, so probably are the raisins.  “And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host …” Two is a little small for a heavenly host, but you couldn’t fit a host in a manger. They are the witnesses who then return to the big crowd.

The little guy up front is a hobbit. We called him “New Kid on the Block,” pre-boy band. He is just an adventurer who happened upon the Nativity. A veteran of D&D campaigns and rock battles, New Kid is probably just looking for treasure.

The angels over it all are new to me. The Rocketeer remains one of my favorite superhero movies, even in the face off glitzier offerings. It’s just so fun. But I can’t wait for Captain America in a movie. Beyond angels, they serve as lookouts to prevent harm to anyone.  

The three kings are on the shelf:  the Penguin (also new), the wobbly robot and skateboarding Snoopy. The only problem is that the shelf is actually west of the Nativity. Clearly then, the wisemen from the East got lost.

The Big Three are next.

 Finally, Thor who is clearly the muscle. Check out that arm. If need be, she will make short work of the Star Wars villains in front of her.

Both original ‘70s-era Greedo and Darth Maul, the best thing about the prequels, begged to be in the Nativity, promising to be on their best behavior.

Greedo wants a chance to prove that Han was wrong to shoot first while they had what Greedo says was a civilized discussion. Darth admits he was on the wrong side of the whole Anakin thing and wants another chance to save a savior.

And everyone wishes you a merry Christmas.

Wide awake sadly

 Anne Lamott has her “aunties,” her butt and thighs nicknamed on a Club Med trip, but I too name body parts.

In deference to Mom, I won’t say what I call my calves and feet when they jump and keep me up till  3 or 4, but they most definitely have names. Honestly, it’s in deference to modesty, too (I am clever at 3 a.m.)

This past week, they got a lot of nicknames. One night, that’s all,  one night they did not jump.

I spent most days in a haze and most nights waiting with dread for the itch that precedes the jump.

Making things worse, my sleep mask was unbearable.

This week can’t be worse, right?  

Drowning in bed

 Not content to merely aggravate me when I am trying to fall asleep,  my sleep machine decided last week to try to kill me.

I wish I were kidding.

As I was going to bed, I turned the machine on. It has been having issues, so I just wanted to confirm all was good.

Instead, water flooded out the mask, an obvious attempt to kill its master.

I do figure water will kill me eventually but always thought it would be through choking not drowning.

We changed the tube, dried everything out and it has been fine.

But a killer bipap? Like I don’t have enough to worry about.