Yesterday I felt like jumping off a bridge (But I’m OK. Please don’t call the ROH). When I told Suzy about this she said rather matter-of-factly, “You always get sad at Christmas.”
This was like being told, “You’re fat!” I kinda knew. It was hard to hear. But it’s true. For some reason, I get all weird this time of year. So there it is.
Feeling Blue is powerful. It doesn’t matter how good the news is: Porchlight was about as successful as it could have been. I have new eyes. My kids are healthy. I just spent the weekend at Tremblant. In sum, I’ve got a great life. And I’m conscious about how self indulgent it is to be sad in one of the richest countries on the planet. Spare me the speech; I get it. But yesterday I actually thought of going out to buy a few dozen 60 watt bulbs so we could have an “old fashioned Christmas” at our place.
Christmas was invented to keep us northern folks off the yawning spans. And that’s OK. Five days of parties ahead. Lots to celebrate.
Fa la la la la, la la la
(yeah, there’s one missing. So deal.)
ABOVE: Click on a photo to see a larger version.
Photos from Walden Christmas past. Family in the newborn loft. Mom, beer and snowperson on the clearcut. 1995. There was snow at Christmas back in those days.
