I've seen Little Einsteins "A Christmas Wish" about a billion times this week. (Didn't everyone?) Still can't understand why they don't just wish for more wish boxes. I suppose it's like the First Law of Magical Dynamics or something: you can't wish for more wishes. I can accept that. But Santa being so wildly negligent as to let gifts just fall off his sleigh willy nilly? It's enough to compel a kid to be bad for a year. If a UPS driver let that kind of thing happen, he'd have to turn in his brown shorts.

ANYWAY. Friday has come and I have frittered away the week. Nothing was accomplished, excepting that patent necessity: the kids are still alive. I think the tree is mostly decorated. Our star broke, and there's nothing more demoralizing than a busted Christmas tree star. And I was never able to find the properly twinkling lights to finish up the house. Mrs. Ditchman came home with several boxes of flashing lights, but these were flashing lights, not twinkling lights. There's a difference. I went to every Lowe's in North County yesterday and found a few boxes of broken strings (I tested them there in the aisle) but was met at every aisle of lights by a hundred other North County folk in the same conundrum. It was nice though, people helping people, everyone generally in a good mood. Some of us know the difference between icicle lights and rope lights, and that tricky string length that accompanies the icicle lights (don't let the bulb count fool you) so we all worked together, a thousand points of light we were, but this week is like the Christmas Eve shopping day for Christmas lights -busy, crowded, bustling. I mean, hey if you can't get them up on the house by this weekend, then what's the point?

What's the point anyway? Joy. Cheer. Merriment. Clearly, I need to calm down and have some. The Little Digger actually slept through most of last night and this morning there's no crying. No crying! And no pus coming out of his left eye and a nice thickly yellowish stool, not liquified. Joy! Our baby is back, or gracious storks replaced him with a healthier boy last night in that few short minutes where we slept -no matter, we're going with the same name.

So the weekend is looking up. Tomorrow is the day we are invited over to the Jewish side of the family to decorate their Christmas tree. Yes, I know. Don't ask. It's become a tradition all the same. But I have the perfect soundtrack: "Oy to the World" by the Klezmonauts. Available on iTunes, it's worth the 10 bucks. I find it seriously awesome, though some may find it offensive (which, in my mind, is part of its awesomeness.) Don't let the silliness of it fool you, the musicianship on the album is quite good, and often stunning. Their hit single, a klezmer rendition of "Joy to the World", is here for free. Love it! (For some people, Christmas can be really depressing, and that minor key the Klezmonauts hit with "Joy to the World" is so perfectly ironic that it would make even the most sullen Christian look forward to seeing his dysfunctional post-modern American family at a full-tilt roast-beast carving.)

If you need a soundtrack for the car while shopping this weekend, I also suggest the same two Christmas albums I promoted last year, my favorites, Ray Charles' "The Spirit of Christmas" and B.B. King's "A Christmas Celebration of Hope" both available on iTunes this year, and the latter of which has nothing to do with Obama. Also, God bless them, they went back to the original album artwork for "The Spirit of Christmas" -the original vinyl I keep in my X-mess decorations box and bring out every year, and every year I snicker. I'm snickering right now just thinking about it! Here:


Ha! And here's the link to my review of the two albums last year. (No seriously, the music is great.)

Have a merry weekend! Don't cut in line. Complement the sales people. They're miserable.

And happy Martin Van Buren's birthday.


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