Yo Saturnalia!

Just outside of the ancient city of Rome there was a small village called Nuvia. The people of Nuvia were poor but festive. They were known to work hard through the summer months, toiling every bit of land good enough to hold seed. And in the winter they were known to throw some of the most outrageous holiday parties. This particular winter, Zeus had decided to join the Nuvians in their festivities. And on one particular evening he found himself sharing the bed with the most beautiful woman of the village – Adriana.
“What’s the matter Zeus? Those last three times I could tell something was on your mind?”
Zeus had transformed himself into a black bear to lure Adriana. But now he is resting on his back in ‘human-like’ form. “I’m sorry, my beauty, but this whole Saturnalia thing is starting to get to me. I didn’t mind so much when the Romans came in and changed my name. And I really don’t mind if those followers of Christ want to join in our orgies. But I think they are starting to take things too far.”
“What is it that you mean my handsome god?”
Zeus sat up and took a deep sigh. “Well, I was traveling through the local agora the other day disguised as a stallion. I just wanted to see what the people were up to. I was curious as to what the hot holiday gift was this year. It wasn’t long before I realized things had changed. I didn’t see one ‘Yo Saturnalia’ sign. And for that matter I didn’t hear anyone saying ‘Yo Saturnalia’. So I stopped at the olive oil booth and asked the vendor why he didn’t say ‘Yo Saturnalia’ anymore. He told me he was directed by management to be more sensitive to other religions and so he had to wish a ‘Merry Christmas’ to all of his customers. Do you believe that? Merry Christmas? It’s like they are trying to take the Saturn out of Saturnalia!”
Adriana put her arms around Zeus’ barrel chest (he was now in the form of a gorilla.) “Don’t worry Zeus. I’m sure this ‘Christ’ thing is just a fad. People will never stop celebrating Saturnalia.”
“Oh I’m not so sure my dear. It got worse. I went to the town square to see how the people decorated the statue of Aphrodite making love to a Centaur. And do you know what they had put right next to that holy statue? A manger scene! Apparently this Christ guy’s parents were too cheap to get a room at the inn and the kid was born in a horse stall. And now the Christians put a manger scene on the town square! Is nothing sacred?!?!”
Adriana withdrew her arms from around Zeus. She looked at him serenely and said, “Maybe what I heard is true.”
“What?! What is it?! What did your hear, woman?!?!”
“Now calm down darling. I’m sure it’s just a rumor. But I overheard some Christians talking about their leader, the Pope, naming December 25th the official birthday of Christ.”

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Zeus jumped out of bed, now in his human-like form, threw on his toga and headed for the door.
“Where are you going my love?”
“I’m going to make sure that these humans never forget that Saturn is the reason for the season!”
Zeus stormed down the street with a mission – he was going to burn every fir tree in every home in all of Rome. People had been cutting down evergreen trees and placing them in their homes for hundreds of years, as the one tree that remained green throughout the winter it symbolized fertility. Of course it only survived in your home if the family goat didn’t drink all the water from the bowl the tree was placed in.
It did not take the master of the gods very long to zap all of the fir trees in the land. When he was finished he hid in one of the local homes to see the anguish of the people who had just lost their evergreen tree.

“Wife! Will you please come here and tell me what has happened to our beautiful evergreen tree?”
“It appears to be on fire dear husband.”
“Actually, my love, it appears that all of those wax decorations you placed on the tree are now on fire. And I must say it is quite lovely. It’s as if the tree was sparkling.”
“Yes husband. It is beautiful. I think we should put lights on the tree every year.”
“I agree honey. Merry Christmas!”
“Merry Christmas to you my love!”

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

That last scream resonated through the land and the oceans, waking one of Zeus’ brothers – Poseidon (or Neptune, take your pick.) “My brother! What is it that disturbs you so?”
Zeus turned to see Poseidon stroking his grey beard with one hand and holding his trident in the other. “Oh little brother. It is good to see you. I think I need your help. These humans are losing the meaning of Saturnalia. They are replacing all of our wonderful traditions with new ones about a guy named Christ. And when I tried to punish them, I only made things worse.”
“Yes. I saw the Christmas trees. They really are quite nice.”
“POSEIDON!”
“I’m sorry brother, forgive me. But I have always found water to be more damaging than fire. Let me give it a try.” Poseidon raised his trident in the air and said a few words in Latin. Suddenly, in every home in all of Rome a gush of water swept through all of the living rooms.

“Wife! Wife! Come here quickly. Our home is being flooded.”
“Oh dear husband what are we to do?”
“Well it doesn’t seem to be too bad. The Yule log is still burning in the hearth. It just needs to be stoked a bit. First I need to take off these stockings and hang them from the mantle to dry.”
“Oh husband, look at all of our Christmas presents. The wrapping paper is soaked.”
“Not to worry my dear. Just put the gifts in my stockings here and they will dry out as well.”
“That’s a lovely idea husband. Perhaps that is where we should always put our gifts. That way we don’t have to worry about them getting damaged.”
“I agree wife. Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas to you my dear.”

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Poseidon! Look what you have done! You made things worse!”
“I’m sorry brother but I was only trying to help.”
Suddenly a blast of fire appeared next to the two gods. When the smoke cleared, their brother Hades (or Pluto) appeared before them. “Hello boys what are you up to?”
“Oh are we glad to see you brother. I have been trying to keep alive the spirit of Saturnalia by squelching this new ‘Christmas’ idea.”
“Yes, yes. I have been watching from the underworld. Of course it was all in black and white but that’s the price I pay. Anyway, if you two are done bungling everything I have a pretty good idea. You may not know this but the only food we allow the dead to eat in the underworld is fruitcake.”
“Eeeeewwwwww!”
“My thoughts exactly. I have a staff of skeletons in hairnets making the stuff 24 hours a day. We’ve got enough stored up to get us through the next three plagues. So I was thinking that maybe we should share some of wealth. Let’s fill every kitchen in all of Rome with fruitcakes!”
“Hades! What a great idea. If that doesn’t kill their Christmas spirit nothing will.”
Hades snapped his finger, creating a spark and filling Roman kitchens with fruitcakes.

“Husband! Come here quick!”
“What is it my dear?”
“Oh wonderful husband, the gods have blessed us with fruitcakes!”
“Eeeeewwwwww! You call that a blessing?”
“Well husband, I thought we could use them to make a nice path from the road to our house for the Carolers. And then with whatever we have left over we give as presents for Christmas.”
“That’s a wonderful idea wife. We never know what to get your mother. And I’ll think I’ll give one to my boss. He should have never given Cocytus that promotion. I’m a much better shepherd.”
“Oh don’t worry dear. You’ll get the next promotion. Besides we only need each other to have a Merry Christmas.”
“You’re right wife. Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas to you my love.”

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Oh I am sorry Zeus. If these humans can have a Merry Christmas with fruitcakes than I think we may be doomed.”
“Hades is right brother. I tried to ruin their presents you tried to burn down their trees. What else can we do?”
“I’ll tell you what we are going to do. We will summon Dionysus to bring us his best wine. We will call on Demeter to provide us with plenty of roast beast to eat. We will ask Aphrodite to give us her most beautiful women. We’re going to have the best damn office party this world will ever know! And we won’t be inviting any Christians!”

The Christmas Pig

Finding the perfect Christmas present for a person can often be quite difficult. No matter how well you may think you know someone, hours and days can be spent in malls and on-line trying to get just the right gift. Sometimes the problem is you know the person too well and you constantly out-think yourself (“No, I’m pretty sure she doesn’t need another blue thong.”) Other times you find yourself trying to find something better than the present you have given in the past (“You see, it’s Chia Shaggy. He goes with the Chia Scooby I got you last year. It’s a set!”) And still other times there is a great lack of communication (“Oh…you wanted two front teeth.”) The worst person to shop for is the one you really don’t want to buy a present for, but need to (“It’s not just a fish – it turns its head and sings!”) But on a few occasions in life, I have managed to come up with a good gift.

My girlfriend in high school liked pigs. Wait a minute, that sounds like I’m a…No, let me explain. Some people, normally young girls, collect ‘cute’ things. Panda bears, kittens maybe even frogs. Well, my girlfriend liked pigs. She had little pig stuffed animals and a sweatshirt or two with an iron-on pig. And when I could, I would make sure I got a birthday card with a pig on it (C’mon – Hallmark has everything!) When my father found out that she liked pigs he suggested that we give her one for Christmas.

“What do you mean Dad? Like a Guinea Pig or something?”
“No I mean a full blown, born-on-a-farm pig. Long after she’s forgotten about you, she’ll never forget the year she got a pig for Christmas.”
“Well, where are you going to get a pig?”
“Don’t worry about it son. I’ll take care of it.”

On Christmas Eve I went to work with my father and lo and behold, down in the basement of the offices was a small cage holding a little pink pig. It turns out that one of the women who worked for my father had parents who owned a farm. And it just so happened that one of their sows had given birth in early December. The pig was old enough to no longer need its mom but small enough to still hold on your lap.

That evening I picked up my girlfriend and we headed back to my house to go to mass with my family. I told her we needed to enter through the front door, an unusual thing in my home. I knew she was suspicious, but it didn’t last long. As she turned the corner toward the kitchen my dad entered the house from the garage carrying the pig with a big red ribbon around its neck. There was screaming, laughter, shock, more screaming, more laughter and more shock. It is really quite impossible to explain the joy of my girlfriend receiving a pig for Christmas.

The story could end there. I figured out the perfect gift, got it and gave to my girlfriend who was ecstatic upon receiving it. But this wasn’t exactly a typical Christmas present. This was a lot more than a box of ribbon candy. This was a living creature that had a mind of its own. The real fun began when we got back from mass later that evening. We had put the pig in its cage and left him in the garage. But when we returned a few hours later there was no sign of a pig anywhere. It had broken out of its cage and escaped through the cat-door. So we headed out into the neighborhood, on that mild Christmas Eve and began the search for our runaway pig. We first came across a couple leaving our neighbor’s house.

“Excuse us. This may sound strange, but have you seen a pig?” The two turned and stared at each other for a few seconds before they both bursted out in laughter. Eventually the woman yelled, “I told you! I told you it was a pig! You said I was crazy and senile. That it couldn’t be a pig! It had to be a dog. But it wasn’t a dog. It was a pig! It was a pig!”
We couldn’t believe it. “You saw the pig? Where? Where was it?”
The woman replied, “It was up the street when we pulled into the neighborhood. But that was a couple of hours ago.” And then a little bit of fear set in. We lived in a pretty quiet neighborhood, but a pig would not have to travel far to find some busy streets. Just when I thought I had the perfect gift – a Christmas Pig – it looked like everything would be ruined by Pig Roadkill.

“Jimmie! Come here quick!” It was mom and we headed back to the house. “I just got a phone call from Mrs. Heil. They have the pig!” Dr. and Mrs. Heil lived across the street in the middle of the woods. Dr. Heil was our family doctor. “She said that she knew it had to be us who lost a pig because no one else in the neighborhood would be crazy enough to have one in the first place. Her grandkids have been playing with it all night. Go ahead over and get it.”

And so Christmas and the Christmas Pig were both saved. It lived the next few weeks splitting time between my girlfriend’s garage and basement. We had a lot of fun with the pig but the novelty wore off and eventually we sent it back to the farm where I am sure it lived a happy life.

Actually, come back in a few months and I’ll tell you about the delicious ham we had for Easter.

Hanging Around the Tree

“Hey Bill! It’s me Frank. Boy is it good to see you. Looks like we’ll be neighbors this year!”
“Yeah Frank. It should be a good Christmas.”

Bill and Frank are about six inches apart, hanging just below the midpoint of the tree. Bill is a silver fish with green fins and gold trim. His hook comes right out of his dorsal fin. Frank is a snowman – or at least the head of a snowman. He has a red hat, a blue scarf and a gold pipe. Many people would like to think Frank should be called Frosty. But there are eight or nine snowpeople on this tree and they all have their own names. Calling them Frosty is like calling your waitress ‘darling.’

“So Bill how was your hibernation? I was stuck near the Peanuts gang and that damn Lucy didn’t shut up the whole eleven months.”
“I know what you mean. A few years back I was packed next to a goose with a French horn. But this past time I had it real nice. I was all wrapped up in tissue paper and didn’t hear a peep from anyone. I’m pretty sure I was sitting at the top of the box too. It was real comfy and cozy.”
“Wow that sounds nice. Hey! Did you notice we’re still on the front of the tree?”

It’s a known tradition, almost a law really, that only the best of the ornaments get to hang on the front of the tree. The back, or the ‘Ghetto’ as the ornaments liked to call it, is reserved for decorations that are old or broken. Or maybe the ones that were ugly to begin with and never really deserved to be in front. And the ornaments that your crazy great-aunt made at the Senior Center – they go in the Ghetto too. Like the goose with the French horn.

“Yeah, we sure are lucky Bill. But I think times are changing. Did you see who’s hangin’ right above you? Wolverine!”
“Oh come on Frank. He’s not so bad. And he cleans up pretty well for a mutant.”
“But it’s just a bigger part of the problem. You’re a fish, I’m a snowman, there are 12 different Santa’s and I don’t know how many Snoopy’s. But that’s all Christmas stuff. What does a comic book character have to do with the birth of Christ? Besides I bet there isn’t even an Angel at the top of the tree again.”
“Are we going to have that same argument again Frank. Do I have to remind you that there was no Angel in Bethlehem when Jesus was born. At least not according to the Bible. Remember, the Angel Gabriel was only there for the good part – you know, with Mary.”
“Just stop right there Bill. I don’t want to hear any more. There just needs to be an Angel on the top of the tree. It’s tradition.”
“Well Frank maybe there is. Let’s ask around to find out if anyone can see the top. Junior is just above your head there. I'll see what he knows.”
“Oooh, which one, Ripken or Griffey?”
“It looks like Cal – I'll get you an autograph.”

Cal Ripken Jr. is one of the larger ornaments on the tree. He’s about six inches tall and in a pose like he just threw a baseball. He’s wearing his home (white) Orioles uniform.

“Hey Ripken! It’s me Bill! The Fish! Hey do you know if there’s an Angel at the top of the tree this year?”
“I haven’t seen the top. But I’ve been hanging on this tree for 14 years and I haven’t missed a day. And there’s never been an Angel on top. But I’ll ask around for you. Hey Charlie Brown. Yeah, you makin’ the snowman. Can you see what’s on top of the tree?"

Charlie Brown may be the second most popular ornament on the tree. His dog, of course, ranks first. At last count there was no fewer than five Charlie Brown ornaments on this tree. And a few more still in the box. This particular Charlie Brown is making a snowman that looks a lot like himself – a bald head and a goofy grin.

“Oh Good Grief. Well…I…um…I…uh…I…I’m not sure.”
“Well do think you could ask somebody that might be sure. Like that penguin over there.”
“Okay Mr. Ripken. I…um…I’ll ask him. Excuse Mr. Penguin. Can you tell me what’s on top of our Christmas Tree?”

Traditionally there is no reason as to why penguins would be on a Christmas tree. But this tree has a few. Penguins of course live in cold environments like the North Pole so it must be an easy association. These Penguins don’t mind living on a tree – it’s better than being eaten by a polar bear.

“Well I cannot see for myself. There is a large Christmas pickle in my view. Actually, I don’t believe it to be a pickle at all. I really think it is a cucumber pretending to be a Christmas pickle. And that is not at all good.”
“Oh Good Grief. Well…Mr. Penguin…do you think maybe you could ask someone else what’s on top of the Christmas Tree?”
“I suppose so. Hello there. You, yes, you the lizard with the Santa cap. Can you tell me what, if anything, resides upon the top of this structure?”

The lizard with the Santa cap is not quite a lizard – he is a gecko. His name is Sam and he is not happy about being on a Christmas tree. Not because he misses the tropical weather. And not because this tree really isn't even a tree (it’s artificial.) Sam has been upset ever since his brother made it big in the insurance business. “Are you kidding me! You want me to tell you what’s at the top of the tree. Well, I oughtta….”

“Please Mr. Lizard, there is no need to be rude. We are just trying to answer a very important question. Now please, could you tell me what rests at the top of this tree. Is it an Angel? Or perhaps a star?”
“No it ain’t no Angel. And it ain’t really a star. It’s kind of a Santa Claus in the shape of a star. Are ya happy now?”
“Yes quite. Thank you very much and Merry Christmas.”
“What did he say Mr. Penguin? Do you know what’s on the top of our Christmas Tree?”
“Yes Charles – it is not an Angel. It is a Star of Santa.”
“Hey Mr. Ripken! It’s no Angel. It’s a star.”
“Hey Bill. On top of the tree, you won’t believe it. It’s a Snow Angel with a Star.”
“Did you hear that Frank. There is an angel at the top of the tree.”
Hearing the news, Frank’s little snow heart warmed with delight.

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