The Nutcracker

An important meeting to determine the 2008 winner of the Sack's Doug of the Year (DOTY) award was convened at Oscar's house today. This annual matter is always decided following his Boxing Day brunch.

Various amounts of champagne and orange juice are consumed by the judging panel during the deliberations. After furious and often inane debate, the DOTY winner is unanimously declared.

We'll tell you more about the outcome of the affair in our next posting. But first, here's a report about a Christmas Day encounter with Computer Doug.

***

It was Christmas Day in the Sack. The street was crowded with illegally parked cars. These belonged to friends and family of various Sack residents.

During mid-afternoon, your agent wandered outside to put some cardboard in the composting bin. It was a bright, sunny day, although there was a slight chill in the air. As if by request, the recent spate of horrid winter weather had dissipated in time for the holiday.

Returning from the side of the Wonders' house, I encountered Computer Doug as he walked out his front door. He was armed with his own supply of cardboard intended for the recycling bin.

Computer Doug was unshaven and he looked tired. His hair was wildly askew. He wore a faded baby-blue T-shirt and a pair of worn pajama bottoms. On his feet were his legendary bear-claw slippers.

In contrast, your agent was clad in a sleek, black turtleneck sweater and a stylish black toque. Both were Christmas gifts from Mrs. Wonders and the venerable Mr. Claus.

Computer Doug put his load of cardboard down and approached your agent for a chat.

***

We exchanged Christmas greetings and asked about each other's welfare. Computer Doug said his Christmas Day was unfolding as expected.

His two young boys had been up at the crack of dawn. Their living room now looked like the scene of a recent riot. The kitchen was awash in breakfast dishes and preparations for Christmas dinner. A small army of his wife, Marion's family was expected to arrive within the hour. Efforts to restore the house to order had just begun.

"Aside from that," said Computer Doug dryly, "everything is going great."

***

Computer Doug admired your agent's new garb. I told him it was the latest in casual wear for the man who puts out his garbage in style. He looked down at his own bedraggled appearance and chuckled.

"I don't think I'll get many points for style right now, eh?" he said with a smile.

"No," I replied, nodding at his pajama bottoms and bear-claw slippers, "I think you've still got last year's look."

Computer Doug shook his head and said, "That's the story of my life."

***

Computer Doug said he received some fine Christmas gifts this year. His best was a DVD boxed set of a favourite television show. He received it from his wife, Marion.

Marion also provided him with his oddest gift. It was a ninety-six-piece socket set. According to Computer Doug, it included sockets for both Imperial and metric measurements.

"That's impressive," your agent replied.

Computer Doug sighed and said, "I suppose so."

***

Computer Doug, of course, has no capacity for mechanical or home maintenance affairs. As an area of interest, such matters don't appear on his radar screen. He has as much use for a socket set as he would for a bad headache.

Despite this, Computer Doug acknowledged his gratitude for Marion's gift. On such occasions, he knew it was the thought that counted most. He did, however, express his opinion regarding her intentions behind the gift.

"I think she's trying to encourage me," he said flatly.

***

Rental Doug's new socket set came in its own attractive case. He said the whole package looks very impressive. At the risk of disturbing its orderly appearance, he had yet to remove it from the packaging.

Of course, there remains a good chance that Computer Doug's socket set will remain unopened. He said he had been trying to think of circumstances where he might make use of it. So far, nothing had come to mind.

At the same time, he wasn't too concerned about needing it. "A socket set is no good to you, if you don't own a socket wrench. I don't think Marion knows that."

***

Computer Doug had only recently obtained his own understanding of socket wrenches. He called Little Doug earlier in the day to discuss the matter. Little Doug, of course, performs almost all of Computer Doug's home maintenance. He fulfills the same role on Oscar's behalf. Your agent has also employed his generous skills on a few occasions.

Little Doug was happy to explain the purpose of a socket wrench. He also offered the use of his own socket wrenches, if the need arose. Apparently, Computer Doug had no idea about such things.

"I now have the capacity to loosen and tighten nuts and bolts," he said with authority.

Despite some deep thought, however, Computer Doug still couldn't imagine a single nut or bolt in his possession that required such attention.

"If you ever have any nut or bolt issues," he said kindly, "I'll be happy to loan you my socket set." I nodded my appreciation and said I would keep his offer in mind.

"But, if you do need it," he added, "you'll have to borrow a socket wrench from Little Doug."

I said I would keep that in mind, as well.

***

As we continued to chat in the pleasant sunshine, Marion's head suddenly appeared from behind their door. She asked her husband if he planned to stay outside for much longer. Their guests, she said politely, were less than forty minutes from their arrival for the Christmas festivities. Apparently, there was still of plenty of work to be done in the house.

Computer Doug said a quick apology to Marion and said he would be inside in just a few more seconds. When she disappeared back into the house, he returned to the subject of his new socket set.

"You know," he said in whispered voice, "if I had given her a new ironing board for Christmas, I'd never hear the end of it."

As he prepared to gather up his cardboard, Computer Doug looked at me and added, "I've made it through my entire life so far without owning a socket set."

Then he picked up his load of cardboard and shuffled off toward his compost bin.

And that, my friends, was the nuts and bolts of my Christmas Day conversation with Computer Doug.

***

Doug Shrugged

Oscar, Weed and your agent were ensconced at the local coffee cathedral.  It was late on a Sunday afternoon.

Our discussion roamed through a variety of topics.  Our favourite hockey teams are losing with alarming regularity. There wasn't much more to be said about that.  Then we had a brief, yet spirited discussion of the recent Canadian political crisis.  Oscar said it was the most significant thing to happen in Canada since Wayne Gretzky got married.

I remain doubtful about that.

Our conversation then wandered onto less significant topics. Somehow, Oscar and Weed became embroiled in a discussion about the expression, "I'd give you the shirt off my back."

Weed expressed his opposition to the literal image behind the phrase.  Aside from giving up his shirt for a bandage, he couldn't see why the practice would be necessary.

"If you're walking around without a shirt," he said with conviction, "why should I give you mine?  You should've put one on before you went out.  I mean, come on."

Oscar had a different view of the matter.  Although he might be a bit self-conscious about his man boobs at first, he was generally willing to give his shirt to anyone who had a good reason for needing it.  However, he did place a limitation on his generosity.  He said he would draw the line at giving up his shirt during the winter months.

"My shirt's not going to do a damn thing for you in the winter," Oscar declared. "You're still gonna freeze your butt off, so why bother?"

The conversation on this topic actually lasted for about ten minutes.  I think it's going to be a very long winter.

***

Little Doug is definitely a "give you the shirt off his back" kind of fellow.  He's always willing to help his fellow Sack residents.

Last week, Little Doug was at the Wonders' house.  He fixed your agent's refrigerator door.  The darn thing wouldn't close properly.  Now it closes with a satisfying thunk.  As he corrected the problem, Little Doug enlightened me about his latest trials and tribulations.  Everywhere he turns, it seems, he can't win for losing.

It began, of course, when Gordette, Gordon's new girlfriend, backed her car into the side of Little Doug's truck.  A significant amount of damage occurred.  This was followed by a verbal spat with Gordette.  There were also a few squabbles with the insurance company in trying to resolve the matter.

In the end, everything was sorted out.  However, Little Doug described the affair as a "royal pain in the butt."

***

Despite the run-in with Gordette, Little Doug did not allow the matter to get the best of him.  He gave credit for this to his new personal philosophy.  Apparently, it's proving to be very helpful in coping with his recent streak of bad luck.

Little Doug's new personal philosophy is captured by a single phrase.  He says it aloud to himself whenever he ends up on the wrong side of things.

The magic phrase, according to Little Doug, is "C'est la vie."

***

It seems unlikely that uttering a single French phrase can make a big difference when life goes awry.  However, Little Doug swears by it.  There must be some credence to his belief, since he has it used with some frequency lately.

Shortly after having his pick-up truck repaired, Little Doug was driving on a main road near the Sack.  Suddenly, he was summoned to the side of the road by one of the old town's peelers.  At the time, he said he was bewildered by the peeler's decision.  He wasn't speeding and he didn't believe that he had violated any rules of the road.

Unfortunately, the peeler had a very good reason for stopping Little Doug.  Apparently, his driver's license had expired about eight months ago.  Little Doug was completely unaware of this.

"I didn't get a reminder in the mail and I hadn't looked at my license in ages," he said with a look of innocence.  "I had no idea."

While the peeler seemed sympathetic to Little Doug's plight, it wasn't enough to avoid a costly ticket.  The fine amounted to two hundred and seventy-five dollars.  This didn't include the cost of renewing his license either.  In fact, when Little Doug attempted to renew it, he was informed of some outstanding parking tickets incurred by his daughter, Daisy. He couldn't renew the license unless he squared up the parking tickets, too.

In the end, the whole affair resulted in an unforeseen expenditure that was close to five hundred dollars. Thankfully, Little Doug had his new personal philosophy at the ready.

When I offered my sympathy in the matter, he simply smiled and said, "C'est la vie."

***

That wasn't the end of Little Doug's run of bad luck.

The next incident didn't cost him any money.  It had nothing to do with his pick-up truck or the old town's peelers. Instead, it was a matter of the heart.

Little Doug's first marriage ended about ten years ago.  His wife ran off with a man from the Internet.  He was from the great state of Maine.  They're married now and reside in the great state of Vermont.  According to Little Doug, the couple is doing just great.

Only in the last few years has Little Doug ventured into the world of dating.  Ironically, he has been utilizing the very same Internet to locate a suitable partner.

"What's good for the goose is good for the gander, I guess," he said optimistically.

Unfortunately, this strategy hasn't yielded any long-term success.  Little Doug's dating opportunities have been few and far between.  The unions that have materialized haven't worked out too well.  Thus far, his most notable relationship was with a woman named Marcella.  Sadly, he discovered that she had quite a crazy extended family.  Since Little Doug already has one of those himself, he didn't think it would be a good idea to take on another one.

Recently, however, Little Doug became acquainted with a woman named Amanda.  They corresponded via email for some time, before exchanging telephone numbers.  About six weeks ago, they started to see each other in person.

Little Doug said he felt a good deal of affection for Amanda.

***

While Little Doug and Amanda seemed to share similar interests and values, there was one very glaring difference between them.

Little Doug is rather short and stocky.  When he wears his one pair of good dress shoes, he says he's almost five feet, seven inches tall.  In his regular footwear, however, he's a few inches south of that measurement.

When clad in sensible, flat shoes, Amanda stands at six feet, two inches tall.

Weed, Little Doug's de facto son-in-law, was the only Sack resident to catch a glimpse of Amanda.  He saw her from the front door of Little Doug's place when she came to pick him up on a Saturday night.  He said he was quite impressed by her "Amazonian" appearance.

Much to Little Doug's chagrin, Weed thereafter referred to her as Amandazon.

***

The height difference was promptly acknowledged at the start of the dating relationship between Little Doug and Amanda.  Both felt it was an irrelevant detail in their growing attraction to each other.  

Little Doug said they even developed some humour about the matter.  Amanda's pet name for him was Tall Boy.  In response, he would call her Shorty.  In total, they saw each other for about five weeks.  Little Doug said things seemed to be going very well, indeed.  They had even talked about spending some time together at Christmas.  

The matter of the height difference seemed forgotten.

***

On the first Saturday in December, however, they went to a Christmas dance hosted by Amanda's employer.

Little Doug said their evening together was relatively pleasant.  He was a bit uncomfortable because he didn't know anyone at the affair.  Also, his feet were a bit sore on account of wearing his good dress shoes.  Nevertheless, he held the opinion that it was a successful evening.

After the dance, he spent the night at Amanda's place.

The next day, however, Amanda dropped a bombshell on him.  She said their height difference was becoming a matter of concern for her.  Apparently, it had been further illuminated at the dance.  She wouldn't elaborate on this, but Little Doug figured that her co-workers might've joked about the contrast in their height during the slow dances.

According to Little Doug, his face was generally aligned with Amanda's chest when they engaged in a slow dance.

***

As a result of her concerns, Amanda said she didn't think a relationship with Little Doug would be possible.  She definitely wanted to remain friends, but she needed some time to think about the matter.

She said she would call him some time in January.

Little Doug admits that Amanda's decision has been difficult to accept.  He thought the height issue had been "put to bed" at the very beginning.  More important, he was upset that she might've been influenced by the perceptions of others.

"I don't care what other people think," said Little Doug forcefully, "and I thought she didn't care about that either."

I offered Little Doug my condolences in the matter.  I said it was too bad that things didn't work out.  It was also clear that he was due for a change in fortunes.

Little Doug nodded his agreement and then shrugged.  "Well, what are you gonna do. . . . the only thing I can say is c'est la vie."

***

Yesterday afternoon, Oscar and Computer Doug were chatting on Oscar's driveway.  

The pair has been spending a lot of time together lately. This is because Computer Doug is unemployed.  Oscar, of course, works from his home.  However, his workload closely resembles that of an unemployed person.  As a result, both have time on their hands.

Your agent cruised into the Sack at this moment.  I was returning from the local shopping emporium.  Removing some bags from the car, I strolled over to Oscar's driveway.

"Where have you been?" asked Oscar.

I glanced at the bags in my hand.  "The mall.  I was doing my Christmas shoplifting."

Oscar nodded, but Computer Doug gave me a startled look.

"I'm kidding," I said quickly.  Computer Doug looked only mildly relieved.

"What about you guys?" your agent asked.  "What're you up to?"

"Waiting for Little Doug," Oscar replied.  "We're going to Home Depot."

According to Oscar, Little Doug is going to make some repairs at their respective houses over the holiday season. Computer Doug needed some plumbing materials, while Oscar was in the market for a new toilet.  Little Doug would make sure they bought the appropriate items needed to perform the two jobs.

Glancing over at Little Doug's house, I noticed that his pick-up truck was gone.  "So, where is he?" I asked.

"Weed took him downtown to get his truck.  He left it there last night after his work Christmas party.  He took a cab home."

I wondered for a moment whether Amanda might've had a change of heart.  "Did he go to the party with someone?" I asked.

Oscar shook his head.  "Nope.  He went by himself.  He got dumped by Amandazon, eh."

"I know," your agent replied.

***

A few minutes later, Little Doug motored into the Sack.  He pulled into his driveway and then climbed slowly out of his truck.  He walked toward us with his hands in his pockets and a dejected look on his face.

"What's wrong?" asked Oscar.

Little Doug shook his head and jerked a thumb back at his truck.  "Follow me," he said in a low tone.

We trailed behind as he led us to the passenger side of his truck.  There was a long, thin scratch running from the rear tail light up to the passenger door.  At that point, a large V-shaped scratch covered most of the door.  Another long, narrow scratch then continued from the door to the front headlight.

"Somebody keyed my truck," he said quietly.

***

Apparently, Little Doug had parked his truck overnight on a downtown residential street.  About seven other cars received the same type of damage.  He said it must've happened in the middle of the night.  The peelers were called about the matter, but the chances of catching the offender seemed unlikely.

We commiserated with Little Doug for a few minutes.  Oscar ranted about increasing vandalism in this day and age. Computer Doug recounted a story about the same experience a few years ago.

Your agent took a closer look at the shape etched on Little Doug's passenger door.  It really was a nasty V-shaped scratch. 

"Hey," I said suddenly, catching Little Doug's attention.  "Does this remind you of anything?"

He looked at the scratch for a few seconds and then shrugged.  I ran my finger along the outline of it and said, "C'est la vee!"

For the first time that day, Little Doug laughed.

***

Next:  The Doug of the Year (DOTY) award. . . . 

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all who wander through the Sack via Cul de Sac Blues!

Snow Follies

A few weekends ago, the Sack awoke to about thirty-five centimeters of snow.  Quite suddenly, autumn had given way to winter.

Your agent awoke on that Saturday morning at about six-thirty.  I was stirred by a distant scraping sound.  

Rising to the bedroom window, I gazed out upon the Sack. It was eerily quiet.  Under the soft glare of the streetlights, the neighbourhood seemed covered in soft, white satin.  The trees were heavy with snow.  Even the exposed trunks were layered in white. It was a beautiful sight, indeed.

The distant scraping was suddenly audible again.

Scanning across the street, I spied movement on Big Doug's driveway.  He was putting the finishing touches on his first snow-shoveling job of the year.  A straight snow bank lined each side of his driveway.  The cleared asphalt was almost bereft of snow.  His prized pickup truck had also been swept clean.

Did I mention it was only six-thirty in the morning?

Despite his pristine driveway, Big Doug wouldn't be able to drive anywhere.  There was still thirty-five centimeters of snow covering the rest of the Sack.  The snowplows wouldn't dig us out until late in the afternoon.  None of this, of course, likely bothered him.

Big Doug was in shoveling heaven, man.

***

The arrival of snow seemed to awaken an early Christmas spirit in some residents.  The first seasonal adornments materialized on the street within days of that first snowfall. On the Sunday, Ben was observed storing a freshly cut Christmas tree in his garage.  The next day, it appeared undecorated in his front window.  By the end of the week, it was fully dressed for the season.

Gordon is almost always the first Sack resident to decorate the exterior of his home.  For him, this is a very serious business.  To the grand amazement of everyone, however, he was beaten to the punch this year.  His comeuppance came from a very unlikely source.

Dirk and Dora, the denizens of Burning Manor, were first to decorate their home for Christmas.

***

Dirk was responsible for the decorations.  He strung a line of Christmas lights in a partial framing of Burning Manor's front porch. The lights were green.

On the snow-covered lawn, however, Dirk erected something quite extraordinary.  He placed a large, inflatable snow globe adjacent to the driveway.  There was a smiling snowman inside it.  When the whole business was activated, a flurry of artificial snow swirled around the snowman.  At night, the globe was backlit.

It was quite a sight.

Sack observers have been confounded by this sudden expression of holiday spirit at Burning Manor.  In the past, the only holiday spirit there seemed to be the liquid variety.  

Dora, in particular, seemed enthralled by the inflatable snow globe. Oscar says he saw her standing outside on consecutive evenings, simply staring at it.  She was mesmerized by the thing.

Oscar says she was probably stoned.  He could be right about this.

***

When the next weekend arrived, Gordon roared into action. He spent his entire Saturday beautifying his home with all manner of decorations.

The lighting scheme alone took most of his time.  At night, his house now illuminates most of the Sack's centre circle. Oscar says the place looks like a casino.  He could be right about this, too.

Gordon also made liberal use of wreaths and boughs.  His porch and doorway are covered with both items.  There's also a large plastic Santa Claus face on the wall above his garage.  A strategically placed spotlight gives it prominence at night.

As usual, Gordon has also erected a pair of mechanical reindeer on his lawn. They're made of thick white wire. Small white lights provide an outline of the animals.  At short intervals, the reindeers' heads bow and then slowly rise in the air.  This makes it look like they're grazing in the snow.

Gordon puts the reindeer out every year.  As always, Oscar will make a clandestine attempt to reposition them. Ultimately, one reindeer will appear to be sniffing the other's behind.

***

Young Doo took advantage of the sudden abundance of snow.  A hefty mountain of the stuff was piled in the Sack's centre circle, courtesy of the old town's snowplow brigade. That's where Doo decided to build a snowman.

The boy toiled over his creation for two solid days.  At times, other Sack kids joined him.  It was clear, however, that Doo was the project's foreman.  He built the snowman at the highest point of the snow mountain.  When the job was completed, his creation towered over the street like a religious statue.

Every time Oscar walked past it, he crossed himself.

***

Your agent was in the midst of shoveling the Wonders' driveway, while Doo was in the early stages of creating the snowman.  Rest assured, this was many hours after six-thirty in the morning.

In need of some respite, I crossed the street to the Sack's centre circle.  I decided to exchange pleasantries with the boy.  Oscar says it's a good idea to maintain good relations with Sack kids.  This way, they won't steal from us when we're old and lacking in agility.

After polite greetings, Doo told me all about his plans for the snowman.  He said it would quite likely be the world's biggest.  As he described his intentions, a thin line of mucus seeped from his left nostril.  

Given the wintry atmosphere, I asked him what he wanted for Christmas this year.  That's when the following conversation ensued:

Doo:  "I wanna Wii"

Me:  "You wanna what?"

Doo:  "A Wii."

Me:  "A wee what?"

Doo:  "A Wii.  I wanna Wii."

Me:  "You want a wee."

Doo:  "Yeah."

Me:  "What's a wee?

Doo:  "It's a game console."

Me:  "Right.  A Wii."

Doo:  "Yeah."

Me:  "Why do you want a Wii?"

Doo:  "Because. . . . it's fun."

***

Dirk's inflatable snow globe, Gordon's festive house and Ben's Christmas tree certainly gave the Sack some early holiday flair.

Doo's snowman, of course, only added to this slice of suburban life. However, it was shaped in a rather unusual fashion.  Rather than being a roly-poly snowman, his creation was tall and lean.  The lad had certainly focused his attention on height rather than girth.  It looked more like an obelisk. 

Nevertheless, it certainly contributed to the Sack's newfound cheeriness.

***

Naturally, this state of affairs wouldn't last.

This week, the old town received several days of persistent rain, strong wind and dense fog.  The temperature rose dramatically.  At one point, it was fifteen degrees outside. That's almost sixty degrees Fahrenheit.

It didn't take long for the heavy coating of snow to disappear.  Only a small pile of it remained in the Sack's centre circle, along with the remnants of Doo's snowman. Everything else was wet, damp and dreary.

On Wednesday evening, your agent and Oscar strolled over to the local coffee cathedral.  Oscar had maple sugar donuts on his mind. Upon our return, we walked through the Sack. It didn't take long to realize that the neighbourhood's early Christmas spirit had dissipated.

***

The Christmas tree in Ben's front window was mysteriously absent. Later, we would hear from Norma about the matter. Apparently, their cat had knocked it over earlier that day. When we walked past their house, they hadn't been home to discover it yet.

Gordon's house was still shining brightly.  However, something was amiss with one of his reindeer.  It had nothing to do with butt sniffing, either.  Instead, it appeared to be malfunctioning.  Rather than moving its head in a grazing fashion, the reindeer was nodding in a quick, repetitive manner.

"Don't look now," said Oscar, with a hint of concern in his voice, "but I think one of Gordon's reindeer is having a seizure."

***

At Burning Manor, the surprising holiday spirit was clearly deflated.

The inflatable snow globe on its front lawn was collapsed in a disjointed, wet heap.  A torn piece of plastic was flapping in the wind.  The happy snowman was partially visible in the carnage.  It looked like it had been run over by a truck.  The recent wind and driving rain was likely to blame. 

Dirk's green Christmas lights had also become dislodged from the porch roof.  A line of lights drooped lazily in front of the entryway.  They haven't been lit for days now.

After the heavy rain, Burning Manor's lawn was a muddy mess. With the almost unrecognizable snow globe in its midst, there was little evidence of Christmas cheer.  

Instead, Oscar said it looked like a paratrooper had recently landed in the midst of a war zone.  

***

Doo's obelisk-like snowman had also suffered from the rain and mild temperatures. 

When first constructed atop the snow mountain, it stood almost as high as the trees in the Sack's centre circle.  Now, it had been brought down to earth.  While the snowman still maintained its lean proportions, it had melted in a most unfortunate fashion.

It resembled a phallic symbol more than a snowman.

***

Gordon has yet to tend to his epileptic reindeer.  It could be that he hasn't noticed yet.  For comedic purposes, no one is likely to mention it to him, either.

The grisly remnants of Dirk's snow globe remains on the lawn of Burning Manor.  Apparently, Dirk has returned to his job on an oil rig and won't be home until shortly before Christmas.  No one expects Dora to do anything about the matter.  She certainly hasn't been spotted outside staring at it.

Thankfully, the sight of young Doo's snowy phallic symbol is no longer welcoming Sack residents to the neighbourhood. Yesterday, he was observed taking matters into his own hands.  Armed with a hockey stick, he destroyed it with a series of vicious chops.  By the end of the day, all traces of its existence were gone.

Oscar says it looked like Doo took more pleasure from the destruction of the snowman, than from the building of it.  He could be right about this.

***

It's now only about three weeks until Christmas. That's plenty of time for the Sack to rekindle its holiday spirit. Already, there seems to be some evidence of this.

Yesterday, Big Doug erected some Christmas lights on the front of his house.  He hasn't done this for a few years. Your agent wandered over to his place, while he was in the midst of this task.

Although he tends to be a bit on the gruff side, Big Doug seemed surprisingly cheerful.  After chatting amiably for a few moments, he asked if I had heard the latest weather report.

"Nope," I replied.  

"Big storm coming tomorrow," said Big Doug.  "Could be rain.  Could be snow.  It's too soon to tell."

"Well, let's hope for some rain, eh?" your agent said hopefully.

Big Doug grunted and looked into the sky as if assessing the possibilities.  Finally, he said, "Snow's a pain in the arse, but I wouldn't mind it if we got some."

"Really?" I replied.  "How so?"

Big Doug gazed around the Sack for a second and said, "Take a look around. . . we could use a little Christmas spirit around here."

He could be right about this.

***