Though it was a holiday week, with the office closed anyway from 12/24 at noon through the weekend, was doing some work each day, if only the work of changing my auto-response messages. Which of course is play too.
Monday, December 22: Merry Monday
Merry Monday to you, merry Monday to you, merry Monday, merry Monday, merry Monday to you.
Though today is not my birthday, the birthday song is fun to make up words to any day. I'd go on to a riff on the "how old are you now" verse, but asking about age is impolitic. In case you're wondering, however, I am 65, though if you meet me ever you'll swear I look young for my age. And I do. I find that after a certain point, if you're going to lie about your age, it's better to lie up.
In fact, if I were writing a self-help book, that would be the title of one of its chapters:
Though today is not my birthday, the birthday song is fun to make up words to any day. I'd go on to a riff on the "how old are you now" verse, but asking about age is impolitic. In case you're wondering, however, I am 65, though if you meet me ever you'll swear I look young for my age. And I do. I find that after a certain point, if you're going to lie about your age, it's better to lie up.
In fact, if I were writing a self-help book, that would be the title of one of its chapters:
"It's OK to Lie About Your Age if You Lie Up (Unless
You Are Under 21)"
And the chapter might open with these lines:
Actually
it's more than o.k., it's in fact wise to lie up about your age. First,
most people who do lie, unless they are under 21, lie down. Which means
then that you have
to live down to your age. Lie up and live it up. Plus lying up on age
is aspirational -- adding years gives you a number to shoot for, is in
its way life affirming.
Tuesday, December 23: Dick and Jane
This is Nick's auto-response.
"Look," says Dick.
"See it in the inbox.
See it ready to be read."
"Yes," says Jane.
"Yes, I see it in the inbox.
Will you open it?"
Dick clicks on Nick.
"See," says Dick.
"See what Nick says."
Jane calls, "Sally, come see."
Sally says, "Nick auto replied to Dick."
"It is in Dick's inbox.
I see it already.
Can we go have cookies and scotch now?"
"Silly, Sally," says Jane. "Cookies and scotch are for after work."
"Let's leave work now," says Dick.
"Yes," says Sally, "Then it can be after work."
See Dick and Jane and Sally leave work.
See them forget the cookies.
"Look," says Dick.
"See it in the inbox.
See it ready to be read."
"Yes," says Jane.
"Yes, I see it in the inbox.
Will you open it?"
Dick clicks on Nick.
"See," says Dick.
"See what Nick says."
Jane calls, "Sally, come see."
Sally says, "Nick auto replied to Dick."
"It is in Dick's inbox.
I see it already.
Can we go have cookies and scotch now?"
"Silly, Sally," says Jane. "Cookies and scotch are for after work."
"Let's leave work now," says Dick.
"Yes," says Sally, "Then it can be after work."
See Dick and Jane and Sally leave work.
See them forget the cookies.
Wednesday, December 24: 'Tis the Day Before Christmas
Tis the day before Christmas, and all through the houseNo technology is stirring, not even a mouse
Well,
that's not true. We used the toaster today at breakfast, and the t.v.
is on, and my daughter's in her room listening to music via an mpg3
player. And the lights are on, and soon we'll be using the oven, not to
mention we did drive a car, and my other daugther made a card with
water colors and brushes, an art technology.
So a revision. Because in an auto reply one should not lie:
'Tis the day before Christmas, and all the through the house,All technology is whirring, _except_ the email mouse.
Thursday, December 25: Merry Christmas
Merry
Christmas
I hope your day brings joy and good company, though I hope that for everyone everyday.
If
you are one to give and receive gifts on this day, I hope you receive
more than you give -- that the monetary value of
the gifts you receive is higher than whatever you spent on the gifts
you gave. Or I hope that you at least break even if you can in that
regard.
Now wishing you a profit isn't to diminish the joy of giving that today is about for so many. I hope you do know the joy of
giving.
Unless
you've managed the minor Christmas miracle of getting everyone just the
right gift, gifts that bring genuine joy to
their hearts and show you to be a gift giver of superior talent and
sensitivity, so much so that you shame those lame gift-givers that seem
this time of year to abound. Not that I'm jealous of your your gift to gift, but if you're a perfect gifter, I hope you stub your toe and find lumps in your mash potatoes.
Friday, December 26: The First Return
And
lo, on this day Mary and Joseph wrapped their babe in swaddling
clothing and went to the agora to exchange the gold, incense, and myrrh
for
more practical things, like a bed, fresh camels, and a place to live.
The stable looks good in a creche, but not so much for bringing up the
King of Kings. This was no easy thing in those days, because the good agora was far away, and the caravan traffic slow and
heavy. But though Joseph was tired and wanted to stay home, Mary
insisted they shop and trade, telling Joseph he could buy some wine
and goat meat on a stick and wait till she was done for all she cared, but he had to
lead the donkey she rode there because she needed to hands to
hold the kid.
And so began the tradition of exchanging gifts the day after Christmas, where men and women who cannot stand being out now sit over beer and nachos in any bar at or near the mall waiting while their partners to correct imperfect gifts or to put those gift cards to use, which is always more pleasant because you don't have to find the gift receipt, if one was provided.
And thus it was decreed that for people over 13*, the perfect gift is cash, not a gift card with its fees and worse god help those who suffer them, good for only a particular store or mall, but cash. Of the three magi, the wisest was he who brought gold, and so Mary sent him the first thank you note.
*For 13 and under toys. Not clothes. Especially not socks and most especially not pajamas. Toys -- and if the toys are to nieces and nephews, loud ones, to help your brothers and sisters not sleep in on Saturday's and Sunday's.
And so began the tradition of exchanging gifts the day after Christmas, where men and women who cannot stand being out now sit over beer and nachos in any bar at or near the mall waiting while their partners to correct imperfect gifts or to put those gift cards to use, which is always more pleasant because you don't have to find the gift receipt, if one was provided.
And thus it was decreed that for people over 13*, the perfect gift is cash, not a gift card with its fees and worse god help those who suffer them, good for only a particular store or mall, but cash. Of the three magi, the wisest was he who brought gold, and so Mary sent him the first thank you note.
*For 13 and under toys. Not clothes. Especially not socks and most especially not pajamas. Toys -- and if the toys are to nieces and nephews, loud ones, to help your brothers and sisters not sleep in on Saturday's and Sunday's.
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