A Muddy Christmas: a story

NOTE: I have tried to make it a yearly tradition to write a yearly Christmas story for my friends. See: “Jungle Bells,” “The Nefarious History of a Former Christmas Tree,” and “The Christmas Crows.” This year the story seems a bit of a downer, but it was an attempt to give voice to some of the characters that I have been working on for other projects. Thor, Constantine, Jed, Lisa, Frank, Hank, Laszlo, Carla, etc. are talking animals with distinct personalities and predilections. In this story they are wondering if they can have a raincheck on Christmas this year.I

Jed (the tophat-clad etymology beaver) asked me to write this out for him. So I will. As you may know, Thor (the typing tree frog) disappeared recently. This left many critters angry and confused.

Constantine (the crow) was angry. Jed, Lisa, Carla, Frank, Hank, Laszlo and all the others were something as well. And that something shifted like marbled endpapers on an old book, like a tie-dye shirt, like weather in Oregon.

A few critters began to ask if it would be possible to get a raincheck on Christmas. If everyone agreed, could it be possible to postpone, to cancel, to just sit one year out? Was there some kind of checklist that could be made? There were all kinds of Christmas stories like this, and at the end there would be a break in the clouds and some miracle or epiphany would turn it into a memorable and amazing grace-filled holiday anyway. The boiled hot dogs would taste like steak. This kind of talk, as you probably guessed, got Jed and Lisa into one of their project modes. Jed suggested that they take a moment to consider the words Christmas, Rain, Check, & List, and a few of their possible variations. We do what we know how to do. And this is what they knew how to do.

Note: Jed described the language origins and usage history of all these words. He, if he reads this, will be disappointed at my omissions, and lack of diagrams and charts and years. Lisa also provided MANY lists. I’m just providing a few details. I, too, just feel like getting this story over with.

Christmas

God became man. Luke 2. Santa, stockings, trees, lights, cookies. December 25. It is a scheduled remembrance, celebration. There are holy versions, secular versions, and all kinds of in-betweens. It would be possible to not decorate, or make cookies, or give gifts, or feel festive, or hear songs or stories dedicated to the season. It would be possible to not celebrate. It would be possible to ignore, but it didn’t seem possible to change the calendar, to make others not celebrate. And traditionally, in their celebrations, Jed and Lisa and Frank and Constantine and Hank and Laszlo and Carla and Thor, and Thor, and Thor, all had their roles to play, all had the things that they did to help celebrate. And few of them were feeling it this year. They wanted a raincheck.

Rain

It was coming down. In water that was wet wet wet and real real real. And it was coming down in metaphors. Most things felt like a rainy day. A few timid voices argued that this was the very reason that folks should do everything to celebrate, and others said that if your legs were broken that was no time to get up and start running.

Check

Marks, lists, affirmative. Jed and Lisa went around checking on all the critters before Christmas. They realized that Thor was the sun that most of their festive orbits revolved around. Other plans were made. Laszlo the limerick spewing newt and Hank the red-necked haiku hummingbird decided to take some time and work on their poetry projects. Carla the introverted crawdad said she was just fine being, thank you very much, being alone. Frank the fact badger was going to hang out with Phil the napping Sasquatch if he could find out where he was hiding. Other plans were made.

Raincheck

The idea behind a raincheck was to experience the thing that was scheduled or purchased at another time. When the game was canceled by rain, when the item bought was sold out. All the critters told Jed that this year there were many reasons that we should get a raincheck on Christmas. Like I said, Jed would have a lot more details to say about all these words, and if he wanted them included, he should have written this himself.

Checklist

Lisa (this is what list-mongering lizards do) started to make a list, a checklist, of all the reasons the critters in the forest shared for wanting to cancel Christmas. Leaders responsible for parts of their world were making stupid decisions. Many of their favorite trees were cut down. The seasons were messed up, and it was raining raining raining when it should have been snowing. Several friends had beautiful children that were promptly devoured by wolves. Several friends got flattened by log trucks, several friends were missing, several friends were sick. Several friends could no longer eat their favorite foods, or make them. Several friends could no longer remember, several friends stopped believing in big THISES and big THATS. Several friends started habits that would likely soon destroy them. Several friends publicly and angrily declared that they were NOT friends with anyone anymore. Several friends stopped listening, several stopped speaking. There were so many questions that were not answered. Lisa’s list went on and on. She was staggered at all the pain, loss, frustration. Maybe they should cancel. Maybe there was enough justification.

Christmas Rainchecklist

And yet you can’t cancel Christmas. Time and tide continue, until they don’t. And when they don’t, that’s the end. Jed and Lisa, and all the others knew this. A Christmas Rainchecklist did not exist. And yet, it did because they just made it up. Quickly Jed and Lisa started to wonder if it should all be one word or more, and they wondered about spacing and capitalization: Christmasrainchecklist, Christmas Raincheck List, Christmas rainchecklist, etc. They smiled, and shared in their own ways, how they really enjoyed spending time with each other. And then they wondered if Hank and Laszlo could incorporate it into a short poem. And then they wondered how Phil the napping Sasquatch celebrated Christmas. (Frank didn’t know, and that’s why he was going to try to find him. Did sasquatches celebrate Christmas? This would be fun to know.) And then Jed and Lisa remembered that even when Thor was around, and everyone was together, Constantine wasn’t really into Christmas anyway. Sometimes he would fly overhead and try to crap on everyone’s heads.

Jed and Lisa started to remember all the things that Christmas had been in the past, and wondered what it could be in the future. This made them happy. Lisa and Jed started to write other lists, not the lists of soggy rain and mud, but lists of joys from the past, a list of possible joys of the future, a list of things they would ask their friends the next time they saw them. And they wrote lists together, and shared the possibilities. And they wrote lists alone, and kept some secrets. The lists did not bring Thor back, and the lists did not stop the rain from being rain, and the mud from being mud, but in their way, the lists made them happy.

Merry Christmas.