Bah! Humbug!
Just kidding. I'm really looking forward to my 70th Christmas. And maybe even my 90th. At 100 I won't give a hoot.

I'm dreaming of a dry Christmas. We don't often get snow. Usually about Christmas time, the ground thaws up and we get mud.

The second line of that song is, "Just like the ones I used to know." They aren't like that any more. Everything is cooked in a Crockpot, on a George Forman grill, or in the microwave. There is heat in all rooms of the house, and relatives come from hundreds of miles away instead of just over the river and through the woods. People sing Deck the Malls with Advertising, and the tree comes out of the attic instead of the north 40.

The kitchen still smells great and the lights are pretty, and the kids still go ape and stay that way from Thanksgiving to New Years Day.

My pumpkin pie has no sugar, but it tastes great just the same. There are packages under the tree that are heavy enough to contain scooter parts, and I think the gift I brought for my wife made here happy. It's furniture, and therefore impossible to wrap, so she has already seen it.

Unlike birthdays, Christmas doesn't make you feel older.

My big sister will be spending Christmas with us for the first time in 48 years.

So it's going to be a good holiday season once again. I hope it is for everybody.
Howard