Have a Horrible, Horrible Christmas

Tim Burton's The Nightmare Before Christmas has become a widely acclaimed seasonal classic.
Tim Burton’s The Nightmare Before Christmas has become a widely acclaimed seasonal classic.

REALLY!!!

No not really, but Christmas time is a great occasion for storytelling and all those stories need not be about nutcrackers and sugar plum fairies. In fact, if you step back and take a close look at some of the tall tales that circulate on these longest of winter nights, you will find that quite a few delve into the darkness of men’s souls. From Charles Dickens’s A Christmas Carol to Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker Suite to Tim Burton’s The Nightmare Before Christmas, innovative storytellers have been more than willing to celebrate the Yule time with a grisly tale. And guess what……they have been very successful at capturing our attention.

My Story

Recently, Chuck Wendig at Terrible Minds posted a Christmas Flash Fiction challenge. In this quest, he suggested that interested participants write a 2,000 word horror story about Christmas. To put things in his own words: “The holidays are in fact ripe with horror — meat and candy, mythological creatures who spy on you, winter hellscapes, animated toys. So many options for terror!”

My response ran a little over the suggested 2,000 word limit, but here it is anyway, a dark Christmas tale from the Canadian North Woods.

Le Loup Garou (the French-Canadian Werewolf)

a Short Story by Henri Bauhaus

The old timers said that the winters in the spruce forests of Northern Ontario were not as cold as they used to be. According to these elderly gents, there once was a time, when the Wendigo River would freeze solid as a rock from Thanksgiving till Easter. The frigid winter would even solidify Jim McKenzie Falls, a twelve foot high rock ledge that ran the breadth of the northward flowing river. They also often lamented that on some nights it would get so cold that your spit would freeze before it hit the ground.

But there was no need to tell Sam Wiggins that…for he learned all about the awesome North Woods winter, the hard way. The unfortunate event took place on an icy December night, when the trees of the forest were going snap, crackle and pop, as the temperature plunged well below zero. So cold were these solstice nights that not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.

Sam’s boss man, Patrick Munster, had given Sam and his crew both Christmas Eve and Christmas Day off. But in the year of our Lord, 1925, Christmas fell on a Sunday, so for the Monday following the most revered holiday, Mr. Cargill expected all twelve loggers to be present and accounted for at 8 a.m. at the Wendigo branch of the Tamarack Paper company. It mattered nil that Monday was Boxing Day and the Feast of Saint Stephen was nigh. To the delight of the paper bosses, Christmas had conveniently fallen on a weekend and come hell or high water Patrick Munster was going to get a week of work from his hardy gang. before the new year rolled in.

The loggers had put in a good day on the Friday before Christmas, so Patrick gave the whole crew the latter part of the day off. The earnest penny-pincher even had a modest cash bonus for all the men, including the ones, who had only been on the crew for just a few months. It had been a good year for the Tamarack Paper Company and the seasoned foreman had been given a small wad of cash and told to disperse it evenly among the crew. Patrick did so without fanfare or keeping even a token amount for himself, an unselfish decision that was rare amongst the company foremen.

Not only did Patrick know the woods well, but he also understood the ways of his men very well. For he knew that sooner or later many of them would end up in the same tavern and that one of the first subjects of conversation would be about their Christmas bonuses. When the subject did come up, Ole Patrick wanted it to be known that his crew got the best bonus possible. For his Christmas kindness, the old Irishman knew that he would reap the benefits in the springtime, when the work gangs were just getting together for the upcoming year.

With only an hour or so of daylight left in the gray, December sky, Sam and several of his fellow loggers headed straight for the Laughing Loon Saloon, which was located just a few doors down from the office of the paper company. From the twelve man crew, only Sam and two of his buddies, Gil McHall and Emit Harding, made it through the front door of the busy drinking establishment.

Once inside, they were promptly seated by an overworked barmaid, who quickly set the trio up with a round of O’Keefe’s Ale and a couple shots each of Seagram’s Canadian Whiskey. Sam lead the first toast.

With glasses raised he said: “Here’s to the overworked lumberjack and the cheap-ass timber company that can’t afford more than a couple days off for its dedicated employees.”

“Aye, aye,” said Gil and Emit in unison, as they clanked glasses together.

“And here’s to the two month furlough we got coming after the New Year,” said Emit, as he raised his second shot glass. “May God rest our weary bones.”

This time Sam and Gil chipped in with a hearty, “Hail, hail.”

After setting their empty shot glass on the round wooden table, each man instinctively started sipping their brew.

“So I hear you plan to spend the winter break up here on the river,” said Gil.

Sam responded. “You got that right. The company offered me some part-time employment and a bed in the bunkhouse until we get going again in the spring.”

“No shit,” said Gil. “Whatcha goin’ to be doin’?”

“Repairing snowshoes, sharpening axes and shit like that,” said Sam.

“That won’t last very long,” said Emit.

“I hope not,” said Sam. “Cause I was planning to set out some traplines, so I can catch me a bunch of snowshoe hares and maybe a lynx or two.”

“There’s always money to be made, ain’t there,” said Gil.

“One way or another,” said Sam, as he took a moment to down the beer from his heavy, glass mug. Then Sam summoned the barmaid, a sweet young lady named Heidi, who was aged somewhere around 30.

“You guys want another round,” asked the shapely lady, as she whirled by the table.

“Just the ale,” said Sam.

“No more whiskey,” inquired the barmaid.

“I’ll do another shot,” piped in Gil.

“Me too,” added Emit.

“One more shot all around,” asked Heidi, as she lay her hand on Sam’s shoulder and swung her long blond braids near enough the tired lumberjack, so he could catch a whiff of her spruce shampoo.

“Hell….make it two,” said Sam. “We got a lot to talk about tonight.”

“Be right back,” said Heidi, while swooping up the empty shot glasses and placing them on her circular tray.

Then she left the table and disappeared behind the bar.

“That’s one foxy lady,” said Sam, as he watched the barmaid fix up a new round of drinks for the hard-working timber cutters.

“You can look all you want to,” said Gil. “But that lady’s spoken for.”

“I can dream, can’t I,” replied Sam.

“No harm in that,” said Emit. “Just don’t get any nutty ideas as the night rolls on.”

“Don’t worry ’bout me, I’m headed up to Moose Crossing for the holiday,” said Sam.

“You ain’t goin’ up that ways tonight, are you?” asked Gil.

“I was kind of thinkin’ of it,” said Sam. “You have a problem with that?”

“No way,” said Gil. “It’s just that it’s a good five to seven miles on a three-foot snowpack.”

“I can handle that,” said Sam.

“Just checking,” said Gil.

“You’re not going to pass on some nonsense about the Loup de Garou,” said Sam.

“You mean the French-Canadian werewolf,” asked Gil.

Just then Heidi returns with the next round of drinks and sets them on the table.

“Here you go guys.”

“Thanks Heidi,” said Sam. “You’re a real sweetheart.”

“Just doing my job,” said Heidi. “By the way I didn’t overhear you talking about le Loup de Garou, did I?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” said Emit. “That ghastly creature, which only comes out on the longest nights of the year.”

“There’s no such thing,” said Gil.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” replied Heidi.

“You’re pulling my leg aren’t you,” said Gil.

“I used to think like that,” said Heidi.

“What changed your mind?” asked Sam.

“A few midnight stragglers with the fear of death in their eyes.”

“Here at the Laughing Loon,” inquired Emit.

“Every winter, one or two show up with some weird tale about being followed by a strange creature. I used to pass it off as some drunken nonsense….but I just can’t do that no more.”

“Why’s that?” asked Sam.

“Some of them were stone cold sober!”

Heidi walks away leaving the three men to their drinks.

One hour later, Sam, Emit and Gil were outside the Laughing Loon strapping on their snowshoes, which had been left out in the snow, while the three men were inside drinking.

“You’re not serious about trekking up to Moose Crossing night,” asked Emit.

“Sure am,” said Sam. “And I hope you’re not serious about that French werewolf bullshit.”

“Of course not,” said Emit. “It’s just the night is turning into a real cold one and a lot can happen in five miles of night walking.”

Sam finishes lashing on his webbed walking contraptions and then stands upright.

“Don’t worry, Emit. I know where I’m going. Besides I got a rising full moon to guide me.”

“I’m sure Sam can take care of himself,” said Gil.

“Alright then,” said Emit. “See you bright and early on Monday.”

With those words, Sam left his two companions and began following a packed snowy trail down to the banks of the Wendigo River. The rising moon cast its rays across the frozen tributary, creating a spectacularly beautiful scene that rivaled the best paintings ever done. Sam reveled in the beauty of the wintry, nocturnal scene, for the white bark of the river birches sparkled in the moonglow with an eerie iridescence, unlike anything that Sam had ever witnessed.

About half way to Moose Crossing, Sam heard some heavy breathing that seemed to be coming up the trail from behind. At first, the solitary walker thought that there was another person out on the trail……after all it was a popular path that connected the two wilderness outposts.

But every time Sam turned around, there was nothing visible.

Another mile along the river trail and the breathing seemed to be closing in, so Sam increased his pace….not a good idea on a sub-zero December night. Soon, Sam came to a top of a knoll, where the snow was particularly deep and the shoeing was overly strenuous. Naturally, Sam stopped to catch his breath. It was at this juncture that Sam noticed a pair of green eyes glowing in the dark forest and he thought he could dimly make out the condensation of someone exhaling amidst the thick cover of spruce trees.

In no time Sam resumed his march through the December night, but now a new urgency pumped his body full of adrenalin and pushed him onwards to his final destination at an alarming speed. The heavy breathing did not stop, as Sam kept his eyes fixed forward…..too terrified to turn around.

As the trail descended from the small knoll, Sam used the downward slope to propel himself forward underneath the frozen canopy. Another incline and Sam was sweating profusely, as he made his tired legs lift his long, wooden walking aids along the snowy path. Each step seemed harder and harder and instinctively Sam knew he would not last long in this arctic environment at his present pace. If the phantom behind did not get him, his overexertion would. There was no way out.

Then at the top of the next hill a glimmer of hope appeared. It was the glow of an occupied cabin that seemed to be situated about a mile in front of him. Sam did not trust his own eyes, but he had no choice….And that was to propel himself forward, as best he could, and hope that his vision was real and that he would reach the place of human habitation before being consumed by the spirit behind him.

The last mile was the most physically excruciating and mentally terrifying minutes that he ever experienced in his 45 years on the planet. The breathing from behind got heavier and heavier. At times it seemed like the breath of the monster was all around him.

Finally, Sam was a hundred yards away from the lighted cabin. He couldn’t believe it. It seemed so real that he could smell the woodsmoke pouring out the chimney and he could barely distinguish the muffled sound of human voices. They were joyous sounds like those that might come from a merry party.

At last, Sam reached out for the metal latch that kept the cabin door closed tight and separated the warm heated interior from the frigid night. Sam wholly-expected the whole building to be a figment of his imagination, but it wasn’t, as he released the latch and stumbled across a finished maple floor with his snowshoes still attached to his feet.

Immediately, the joyful banter turned to dead silence. The first thing Sam noticed was a huge fire burning in a fireplace that was located to his right. Directly, in front of Sam was a long bar with a banner hanging from the ceiling that said: “Welcome To Hell”. The bartender had a bright red, painted face and two horns emerging from the sides of his head. Worse of all he had an uncanny resemblance to Jim McKenzie, the brave logger who had died ten years before in a logjam right above the waterfalls that now bore his name in honorarium.

When the bartender spoke, Sam passed out.

Immediately, a small crowd gathered around the exhausted logger. A woman splashed her drink in Sam’s face and he came to.

Sam looked at the bartender and blurted out: “You’re Jim McKenzie and you’re dead.”

Immediately, the sounds of laughter filled the one-room cabin.

“No sir,” then the bartender paused for a few long seconds. “I’m Doug McKenzie, Jim’s older brother. Even though Jim passed away ten years ago, people still get us mixed up. It happens all the time.”

“What the fuck is going on here?” said Sam.

Another loud burst of laughter passes through the twenty or so people gathered in the lonely cabin.

“Welcome to Hell Night!” said Doug. “We do this once a year right before Christmas.”

Slowly, Sam surveys the room and notices that all the people are in costume, most of them quite dreadful.

“You’re kidding me,” said Sam.

“I kid you not,” said Doug. “But I do have one question for you.”

“What’s that?” said Sam.

“What caused you to come bursting through the front door with your snowshoes still attached to your feet?”

“I was being followed by the Loup de Garou,”

Another deathly silence swept through the room.

Then the fire flickered and one of the windows fogged up from the outside. A few seconds later another window fogged up, as two wolf-like eyes could be seen glowing outside in the night. And they seemed to be looking into the cabin.

Then the eyes disappeared and faint footsteps could be heard leading away from the cabin.

When things returned to normal, Doug leaned over and spoke to Sam.

“That ain’t no werewolf!”

“Then what the hell is it?” asked Sam.

“It’s a ghost wolf,” said Doug.

“A what?”

“An appearance by a ghost wolf is rare,” said Jim. “But when they do appear, they always take somebody back with them.”

The End

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Redskins, Pumpkins, Pilgrims, Wild Turkeys and does anybody have a beer?

Recent New Yorker Magazine Cover questions the reality of a pro football team in our nation's capitol that is named for the "redskins"
A recent New Yorker Magazine Cover questions the reality of a pro football team in our nation’s capitol that is named for the “redskins”

A Tumultuous Journey and Landing

To say that the pilgrims had a tough time of it in their early goings in the New World, might be a gross understatement. First, there was the oceanic crossing, which occurred in the autumn months, when the North Atlantic is at its stormiest. Although many were seasick for days on end, only two people perished during the tumultuous journey. But from here, things only got worst, as during the first winter at Plymouth, half of the 100 colonists died before the winter was out.

Does Anybody Have a Beer?

The first encounter with the Native population was even more surreal, as it occurred in the early spring after so many had died. In early March, an Indian by the name of Samoset, proudly walked into the Pilgrim settlement and promptly asked in understandable English, if anybody had any beer. To make things worst, Samoset and some of his Wampanoag friends had been living nearby for the course of the winter and so they must have been aware of the settlers severe decline.

So Maybe the New World Wasn’t So New After All

As it turned out, Samoset’s taste for alcohol and limited use of the English language came from his home on Monhegan Island, just off the coast of Maine. Here, English traders had been stopping by on this remote island for at least a decade and trading many items with the Natives for fresh supplies of food and water. A few unlucky souls had even been taken capture and transported across the Atlantic, where they were sold off as slaves. Squanto fell into this category, so maybe the New World wasn’t so new after all.

Divine Guidance Or Just Plain Lucky

In some ways the pilgrims were very lucky, for their new home occurred in a part of the America that had just  been ravaged by small pox. Actually, this could have turned out really bad, if the local inhabitants had viewed the new arrivals as harbingers of the dreaded disease. But as it turned out, this was not the case. Instead, the English transplants were seen as suitable replacements, for the nearby village, which had been wiped out by smallpox.

Not only did Samoset and his associates help the pilgrims survive, but also, the newcomers formed a mutual defense alliance with various Wampanoag villages that existed in what is now eastern Massachusetts. This became known as the Mayflower Pact and the agreement lasted, for as long as the Wampanoag sachem, Massasoit was alive. In fact, the Mayflower accord became a realistic model for the many treaties that were created between Indians and Whites in the following centuries.

Origin of the term “Redskin”

The main objection to using Redskin as a team mascot, in the NFL (or anywhere else), comes from its use as a term for a scalp, which is taken from an American Indian during warfare. Some scholars have pointed out the term originated among the American Indians to differentiate themselves from Whites and Blacks and so it is no more offensive than those terms.  This may be true, but would anybody suggest changing the name of the Washington Redskins to the Washington Caucasians or the Washington Blacks.

 

 

 

Ola, What Exactly Is the Cinco de Mayo

This Cinco de Mayo stamp was issued by the United States Post Office in 2005
This Cinco de Mayo stamp was issued by the United States Post Office in 2005

The Fifth of May Explained

The Cinco of May is nothing but a Spanish expression for the fifth of May; the date, when a famous battle took place in Old Mexico. The year was 1862 and the place was the Colonial town of Puebla. Though outnumbered two-to-one the Mexican army defeated the French regulars lead by General Lorencez. At the time the US was involved in a bitter Civil War and so they were unable to take sides in the conflict.

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Cinco de Mayo celebrates the Mexican army’s victory over French forces at the Battle of Puebla on May 5, 1862

French Intervention In Mexico

During the 19th century the French made two attempts at colonizing Mexico. The first was called the Pastry War and it occurred in 1838. The second begain in 1862 and for five long years. This invasion was known as the Maximilian Affair.

After thie Fifth of May defeat at Puebla, the French retreated to the Gulf Coast at Veracruz. Here, they regrouped and then were able to dominate Mexican affairs until 1866, when the Mexican militia forced the European occupiers to begin their departure. In 1867, the Mexicans took back Mexico City and executed the French Emperor of Mexico, an unpopular fellow by the name of Maximilian. This stormy period of Mexican history underscores the difficult struggle that Mexicans faced, not only with Spain, but other countries as well.

 

Cinco de Mayo poster in the US
Cinco de Mayo poster in the US

An American Holiday

If you want to celebrate Cinco de Mayo…..don’t go South of the Border……. There’s nothing going on. To really get in the swing of things on the fifth of May, you’ll have to cross the Rio Bravo (for all you gringos that’s the Rio Grande) and visit an appropriate U.S. city or state. Go to the right place and you will see a parade and maybe some bar specials promoting liquid refreshments from our southern neighbor. Cinco de Mayo in the United States has been a time for Mexican-Americans to public celebrate their heritage.

Cinco_de_Mayons

May Day – May Day, It’s the First of May

 

Maypole at a girl's school in Brentwood in southern California, from Wikipedia, photo by Jengod
Maypole at a girl’s school in Brentwood in southern California, from Wikipedia, photo by Jengod

         “Not far from Merry Mount was a settlement of Puritans, most dismal wretches, who said their prayers before daylight, and then wrought in the forest or the cornfield till evening made it prayer time again.”  by Nathaniel Hawthorne from The Maypole of Merry Mount

May Day Now and Then

Today an editorial by Peter Dreir appeared on Huffington Post, concerning the international significance of May Day. The piece was written mainly from the viewpoint of the holiday as a time of political activity, particularly those pertaining to workers’ rights and immigration reform. No mention was given as to how the date traces its significance back to the old Celtic calandar used in many parts of Europe. Originally, the First of May was the time of year villagers celebrated the arrival of spring with dancing, feasting, drinking and much merriment……but unfortunately Mr. Dreir has forgotten this and sees the day, as one aligned with political struggles.

My Early May Day Experience

In my youth we celebrated May Day at school with the erection of a maypole, where us kids got to dance around the center post, while holding the end of a long tassel. The number of boys and girls were equal, as each group danced in opposite directions, weaving their colorful strands as they went. The dance lasted only a few minutes, until the large pieces of ribbon were completely wrapped around the pole.

The place was a public elementary school in the Maryland countryside and this dance was a big deal for us third graders who got to do the dance, for all six grades were let out of class to watch the proceedings. Also, a May King and Queen were chosen from the sixth class. All in all, a very good time was had by all.

As I got older, I moved away and got to live in other parts of the country. During my travels I learned of other people, who had participated in similar May Day festivities, but overall this particular celebration was not a widespread practice.

The Maypole of Merry Mount

In 1842 Nathaniel Hawthorne published a collection of short stories, called Twice Told Tales. One of those tales was titled The Maypole of Merry Mount, a spirited account of conflict between Puritans and a group of slightly less religious souls, who lived in a nearby village. The central point of contention here was a marriage between a young man and woman. The wedding celebration included much feasting and dancing, but was rudely interrupted by a group of Puritans, who demand that all the participants (except the bride and groom) be whipped.

Before being shipwrecked the SS Minnow sent out a Mayday distress signal, but know one responded
Before being shipwrecked the SS Minnow sent out a Mayday distress signal, but know one responded

How Mayday Became A Distress Symbol

In the nautical world, the distress signal, Mayday, is always repeated three times. Like this, Mayday….Mayday…….Mayday. It has nothing to do with the first day of the fifth month. Instead, the word is derived from the French expression, m’aider, which translates to “Help Me!”

 

 

 

 

Happy St. Patrick’s Day

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St Patrick’s Day Parade in Omotesando, Tokyo, from Wikipedia, photo by tata aka T

Wearing of the Green

As a youngster growing up on the East Coast, my mother always insisted that all us kids wear something green to school on March 17th. As far as I can remember we always complied without any resistance. Of course we would not be alone, for maybe a quarter of the public school students would display some green in their clothing.

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St Patrick’s Day Inter Church procession, Saul Road, Downpatrick, County Down, Northern Ireland, March 2010, from Wikipedia, photo by Ardfern

Primarily A Religious Holiday

For many years I lived in the Irish Channel of New Orleans, where I was befriended by an Irish priest, who had left the Emerald Isle, and settled in the Crescent Church. He was a friendly man, who always expressed displeasure on how much drinking occurred here in America on the noted holiday. Evidently, St. Patrick’s Day in Ireland is much more of a religious holiday.

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Market Street, Downpatrick, County Down, Northern Ireland, March 2011, from Wikipedia, photo by Ardfern

Everybody Loves A Parade

The St. Patrick’s Day Parade in New Orleans ran down a short section of Magazine Street before looping through the Garden District and finishing up at St. Mary’s Assumption Church. By New Orleans standards it was a simple parade where lucky recipients would be tossed a head of cabbage. On rare occasion someone of ill repute in the Irish community might get bumped on the head with one of the green vegetables. After the  parade the Parasol bar and restaurant was a popular place to go and enjoy a brew and the traditional St. Patty’s Day fare of corned beef, boiled cabbage and potatoes.

Wanna Get Lucky
Image by Wyattsmomee from Flickr

And a Little Debauchery

What Not To Buy Your Girlfriend On Valentine’s Day

Valentines Barney Cam filming.
Barney watches as Miss Beazley gives a “kiss” to Kitty, Thursday, Feb. 8, 2007, as the White House pets pose for a Valentine’s Day portrait at the White House, from Wikipedia, photo by Paul Morse

Origin Of Valentine’s Day

Today, Valentine’s Day is a popular commercial holiday, but you might not know that February 14th is also an official feast day in the Anglican, Lutheran and Eastern Orthodox churches. The actual celebration can be dated back to the early Christian days in Rome, when several Christian men by the very same name were put to death by the Roman authorities. The two most common references to Saint Valentine include Valentine of Rome, a priest, who was executed in 269 AD and Saint Valentine of Terni, who was martyred in 197 AD. Take your pick.

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Antique Valentine’s Day from 1909, from Wikipedia

My Research

The inspiration for this post comes from another blogger, Lynn Viehl, alias Paperback Writer, who recently put up a post entitled, Ten Things We Ladies Don’t Want for Valentine’s Day . Among some of her most intriguing items on the list were a Tattoo Shop Gift Certificate and a Vajazzling Kit. After reading the entertaining blog it was only a short step until I was cruising the web to see what other people had to say on this matter.

Books

Books did not rate very high on Valentine’s Day, with cookbooks being subject to special scorn. Nonetheless, even ordinary reading books made some lists, a suggestion that contrasts with a blog I posted on Valentine’s Day 2010, entitled Buy Your Sweetheart A Book For Valentine’s Day. Looking back, I guess this was not a very good suggestion, especially considering that at the time I was  trying to plug my own self-published titles.

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English Lingerie Shop, from Wikipedia, photo by Lucarelli

Lingerie

High on the list of things not to buy was lingerie. Most common complaint was  purchase of improper fitting items and the ultimate comparison with perfectly-shaped professional models, such as one might see in a Victoria Secret catalog. Along similar lines, memberships at health clubs or purchases of exercising equipment were also highly discouraged.

Valentines_day_flowers
Valentine’s day red roses photo by Vimukthi, from Wikipedia

Flowers

Another item that was almost universally discouraged was flowers, especially plastic ones. The one possible exception here, might be flowers that were actually delivered by a florist.

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Heart-shaped box of chocolates, from Wikipedia, photo by Dwight Burdette

Chocolates

Chocolates received a more mixed-bag of positive and negative reviews, indicating that there might be a sizable number of chocoholics among the female population.

Other Items

From my research other discouraged items included household appliances (especially vacuum cleaners), flannel nightgowns, stuffed animals, gift cards, sex toys and music CDs. So now that the field has been narrowed down a bit, happy shopping guys, for Valentine’s Day is just around the corner.

Happy Mardi Gras

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Karneval in Rom
painting by Johannes Lingelbach (1622–1674)

Meaning of Mardi Gras

Mardi Gras literally means Fat Tuesday, though many Latin countries know the popular holiday as Carnival. No matter how you look at it, Mardi Gras is the day before Ash Wednesday, when Lent begins. It is usually looked on as a time of celebration and revelry that occurs just before the Lenten season commences.

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Mardi Gras Day, New Orleans: Krewe of Kosmic Debris revelers on Frenchmen Street 2009, from Wikipedia, photo by Infrogmation of New Orleans

Mardi Gras Remembered

During the 80’s I resided in New Orleans and enjoyed every Carnival season, while I was there. Mardi Gras Day in the French Quarter was definitely a lot of fun, but celebrations occurred all over the metropolitan area. Except for the downtown madness, most of the celebration consisted of families coming out to view the parades. In fact, some of the best parades, such as Bacchus occurred at night on the weekends preceding the popular holiday. And of course the best way to view the festivities was with a group of friends, where you could form your own Krewe similar to the one pictured above.

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The Tulum archaeological site (Mayan) in the Mexican state of Quintana Roo, from Wikipedia, photo by Bjørn Christian Tørrissen

Ash Wednesday In Old Mexico

The religious holiday of Ash Wednesday follows Mardi Gras. In many places, it is time of sober reflection and attending church services. The first carnival season that I ever experienced was on a  Caribbean island located along the Yucatan coast of Mexico. I have put my rather bizarre experiences into a novella, titled Ash Wednesday In Old Mexico. Just click on the title and you will be redirected to the Amazon page, where it will be offered free for tomorrow, which is also Ash Wednesday.