Merry Movie Christmas

Grace: Mr Cross, it's time for your Christmas list.

Frank: OK, let's get this over with.
Grace: Sammy Goldberg.
Frank:  Bath towel.
Grace: Lou Parker
Frank: VHS home video recorder.
Grace: Colonel Tom Parker.
Frank: The bath towel.
Grace:Tamara Forristal.
Frank: VHS.
Grace: Babalu Towloudes.
Frank: The bath towel.
Grace: Glenn Glenn Whitacre.
Frank: What was the last rating on "Police Zoo"?
Grace: 5.2  Nielsen and a 7 share.
Frank: Towel
Grace: Your brother?
Frank: Towel.
Grace: Your only brother.
Frank: Oh, God, give it to me! Get that.  - Towel, towel...
Grace: (answering phone) Mr Cross's office.
Frank: Towel... Most of these are towels, OK?
Frank: and Grace? Get yourself a towel. -
Grace: And my bonus?
Frank: Towel and a face cloth.

--Scrooged

Well I was going to talk about the Texas Longhorn football Factory of Sadness, but I'm still far too depressed to dwell on it, and that's hardly the way to promote Christmas cheer. Everyone knows I bring the Happiness, in spades (or is that "spates"?).

So its Christmas Presents now, Factory of Sadness later. 

Just about every comedian has a good Christmas rap. Some talk about Christmas customs, others about the whole concept. They've pretty much covered the weirdness we exhibit when celebrating the birth of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. I really like Jim Gaffigan's Christmas tree bit, for example. So that leaves me without much to add.

Though....

The gift giving tradition eludes me. "Hey, Jesus was born 2,000 years ago today, here's a Wal Mart gift card. Peace be with you." (spoiler alert, I'm giving someone a Wal Mart gift card). When you overlay the whole Santa thing as well, that makes even less sense. (oh, spoiler alert again...never mind). Its just one of those things that makes no sense when you dig deep, but you enjoy it anyway. Like the county fair. Or democracy.

Not everyone enjoys the holidays of course. Every year, celebrities up and down the fame pyramid interrupt Die Hard and Lethal Weapon reruns (two of the greatest Christmas movies ever, disputes not accepted), and get all preachy about the "less fortunate" and "those in need" and "those who are suffering" and blah, blah, blah. What, not everyone's getting his and her matching Ferraris? Losers. Or about all the depressed people whom the holidays drive to domestic abuse or suicide. I suppose if you just got divorced or you have no friends or money, or your kids hate you and won't talk to you, or you lost your job or something, one more time watching The Year Without a Santa Claus might just make you start looking for the nearest bridge. And in your case, unfortunately, Clarence the Angel won't be waiting to help out. Just the Heat Miser.

Not that its the same thing, but Christmas poses a lot of risks for a guy like me. You know, a socially awkward, narcissistic, sporadically mature loner with relationship and body image issues (but in a fun way). Basically, like the Fonz at 48 if he had never gotten married (I just assume that in the show world, the Fonz married Leather Tuscadero, had four kids, and owns a chain of muffler shops in the greater Milwaukee area. And that Potsie lives in their basement. I think about things like this you know.). Christmas always puts me in a sort of Bermuda Triangle, bounded by Poor Memory, Old Age, and Questionable Judgment. Its the damn presents. I do just fine for all the other holidays. No, Halloween is not a holiday. Roving gangs of pre-diabetal delinquents demanding candy, and adults dressing up in costumes do not make a holiday.

Presents have evolved beyond just a simple way to express affection or good will and celebrate Christmas. No, these days, a present really tells someone what you think of them. Sometimes this works (see jewelry ads). But more often than not this leads to disaster. You give her the 10 carat diamond tennis bracelet, and she hands you back a Wal Mart gift card. With generic wrapping paper. Or nothing. Message received. You give someone a diet book, they wonder "do I need to lose some weight?" You get the fruit cake, or the singing bass, or the Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer sweater. Am I retarded or something? (oh, sorry, that's cruel, I meant "an Aggie or something"). Or they give you something you originally gave them. My cousin's then fiance's first gift to her soon-to-be sister-in-law was an etiquette book. A big one. Subtle. Very subtle.

The aforementioned Bermuda Triangle boundaries combine to ruin my present selection game. Did I already give this person this as a gift? Maybe like 20 years ago for her birthday? Will he/she like this Rand Paul bobblehead doll? Or maybe the steak knives would be better?  The middle of the triangle? That whole body queasy feeling you get about five seconds after you realize you gave someone a present that you should not have. Or you didn't get them a present that you should have. Its the adult version of that sickening feeling when you broke some rule at home, the exact moment that it dawned on you what repercussions you would face. Or wrecked your dad's car.

Bermuda Triangle.

So since I've largely run out of present ideas (you reach a certain point where you've pretty much given people everything you can both afford and think of), and because I'm declaring a truce in the Christmas present war, I thought I'd at least have a little fun with giving gifts. Every year from now on I'll try to jazz it up somehow.

Here's the first idea. Oh, most of you can stop reading now. You're getting a towel.

The rest of you, you're getting your actual present, plus, a movie. Feel free to cheer now.

Why, you ask? Or, I will just pretend that you ask.

The movie will convey an implied message indicating something I think about you. Either some message to convey, or an opinion about you, or an impression I have of you. The "fun" is trying to figure out the meaning. Think of it as your very own message in a bottle. Or DVD case. The movie will "mean something."

So, for example, lets say you're a self-obsessed, overbearing mother scared of growing old and you resent your children's youth. Who dislikes wire hangers. You just might get a copy of Mommie Dearest. Though I'd never be so obvious. That's just to illustrate the principle. Or if you're an uptight, fussy, neat freak, or a slovenly lout, you might get The Odd Couple. Or if you're an underworld assassin, how about the Godfather? Pay close attention to Luca Brasi. Or if you're a black sheriff with a penchant for Gucci and Count Basie, Blazing Saddles.

Fun, huh? And, you know the movie will say something about you, just like all other gifts.

I'll make sure its not some dog movie or French New Wave thing either. You'll at least enjoy watching it, I hope, even if the whole "message thing" doesn't suit.

There you go. At least along with the awkwardness and trepidation, you'll get something at least remotely interesting to watch on a slow Sunday afternoon.

Or you'll stop speaking to me for the next eighteen months. Either one.

Merry Movie Christmas!

NEXT-I'm really not sure.