How Doug Stole Christmas
Image courtesy Brad Reid (www.bradreid.com).
Greetings all and welcome to the Christmas edition of Steve's Paper-Based Column Of Insanity. Yes, that's right, only one name this week. I'm so excited about today's column that I'm not going to waste time coming up with other silly names. This is the column that I believe can make it into the top ten, so be sure and tell your friends. This week we have that classic tale of Christmas mischief and Christmas spirit, the story of how Douglas Johnston (who has since seen the light and now runs this site) tried to stop Christmas from coming to Carbonear, Newfoundland by taking everyone's D*I*Y Planners so that no one knew who to give presents to (everybody get that? Good:). This is the tale of how Doug tried to steal Christmas from the Newfs (including the heartbeat of every Newf celebration, that famous alcoholic invention, Newfie Screech) and eventually saw the true meaning of Christmas. Prepare to have your hearts warmed and your planners swiped, as we present
How Doug Stole Christmas (With all apologies to the late Dr. Seuss.)
Every Newf down in Carbonear liked Christmas a lot
But Doug, who lived just North of Carbonear, did not.
At the top of Mount Covey lived Doug,
And Christmas made him feel like a slug.
This cave man didn't like to plan.
He liked to do things off the cuff
And couldn't stand all this well-planned,
Newf Christmas stuff.
Doug hated Christmas, the whole Christmas season.
Oh, please don't ask why, no one quite knows the reason.
It may have been that he suffered from a dog bite,
Or maybe that he had lost money on a chicken fight
But I think that the most likely reason of all,
May have been that his D*I*Y Hipster Planner was two sizes, too small.
Doug's planner was so small that he had no room for Christmas events,
Or writing down who would receive certain presents.
He hated the Newfs for being so festively efficient,
Because, in giving gifts, he was very deficient.
But, whatever the reason, the bite or the fight,
Doug stood there hating the Newfs in the St. John's Night.
He knew that each of them was hanging a Newf Wreath,
And toasting the others with a glass of Newfie Screech.
"They're giving gifts from their planners,"
he growled with a sneer.
"Tomorrow is Christmas. It's practically here!"
Then his eyes brightened with D*I*Y cunning:
"I must find some way to keep Christmas from coming!"
"After they give out the presents,
the Newfs will do something most unpleasant.
They'll sit down to a feast,
and they'll drink Newfie Screech
and eat rare Neuf roast... moose.
Newfie Screech at a feast I can't stand in the least."
"It's time to get tough!
I've had enough of this Newf Christmas stuff.
Why, for 35 years I've put up with it now.
I must stop Christmas from coming... but how?"
Then Doug got an idea, an awful idea.
Doug got a wonderful awful idea.
"In the long run," he said,
"it's not about getting things done.
I think it's time to go down there and have some fun."
Then Doug started to gloat
like an old mountain goat.
And he made himself a quick Santa Claus hat and a coat.
Then this con man came up with an action plan
and threw his dog Locksley in his 4-wheel drive minivan.
"I'll go down to the town and take all their planners, you see.
This holiday is altogether too efficient and bourgeoisie!"
After forcing a few more rhymes,
That old Doug got on with his crime.
He drove down the mountain in his high-traction van,
To perpetrate his Christmas Eve scam.
He came to Carbonear.
No one knew he was there.
The Newfs were all dreaming sweet dreams without care...
And he came to the first little house on the square.
Inside, all the little Newf hipsters lay all in a row.
"These hipsters," he sneered, "are the first things to go."
Showing that he really knew how to get things done,
He took all their planners, all-in-one.
He took their weekly planners,
He took their day keepers,
He took their outlines, quicklists and matrix... matrices... matrixes... damn!
Doug slunk to the icebox,
He took the plan for the Newf feast.
He took the Newf kitchen planners,
He took the Newfie Screech!
He packed up his van and he started off slowly,
To drive 10000 feet to the top of Mount Covey.
He reached the top and flashed a smile most unholy.
And he heard a sound rising through the air,
A sound of singing coming up from Carbonear.
It started out low... then it started to grow.
But... this sound didn't sound sad...
This sound sounded glad!
And as he stood there, his D*I*Y leather shoes frozen stiff in the snow,
He puzzled and puzzled. "How could it be so?"
It came without quadrants.
It came with saws.
It came without templates, agendas or logs."
Then Doug thought of something he hadn't before.
Maybe Christmas, he thought, isn't planned to come from a store.
Maybe Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more.
And what happened then,
Well, in Carbonear they say,
That Doug's small hipster grew three sizes that day.
Now that his hipster didn't seem so small,
He whizzed down the mountain in his minivan, right past the mall.
He brought back their planners,
He brought back their sources,
He brought back their trip diaries, checklists and courses.
Then they gave out the toys,
Gave out the fleuf to the Newf girls and boys.
Doug brought everything back, the plan for the feast,
And he, he himself, Doug, poured the Newfie Screech.
Welcome Christmas, bring your cheer,
Cheer to all Newf's far and near.
Christmas day is in our grasp, so long as we have hands to clasp.
Christmas day will always be, just as long as we have we.
Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, etc. from the D*I*Y Planner crew! :)
Special thanks to Brad Reid for the illustration (www.bradreid.com)
And to Doug Johnston for being such a good sport.
www.whenrealityknocks.com (For more good stuff on Christmas:)
Don't forget everyone, we're shooting for the top ten, so be sure and tell all your friends!
The scary thing is if you hang out in my head long enough, this stuff starts to make sense. Definitely time for a vacation....