"Does anybody here know what Christmas is all about?"

So says Charlie Brown, he of the goldenrod tee with the funky black zigzag, right before sprucing up the ugliest duckling in the tree lot, turning it into the baddest evergreen this side of Rockefeller Center.

Yes, I watched it again. King of all holiday specials. Charles Schultz at the drawing board, and one Vince Guaraldi (or is it Schroeder?) and his trio tickling the ivories in the background. Linus offering up blanket statements to the gang about mangers, wise men, etc. Mr. P. Pen kicking up the dust with the upright bass. And the original Snoop, playing the doghouse bones with the one, the only … Stock. Wood Stock.

So yeah. I’m boycotting the mall. And to hell with those big gaudy trees! I’m going to find the saddest little wire-stick in the dollar store, comb out its little fake needles and give it some love. And spare the axe to the real baby tree in the woods.

Ah, here come those Christmas spirits. Or did someone just spike the eggnog?

Here’s an example of another daily mundane occurrence spun into a tale. A
blogger’s gold, or silver-plated copper, if you will ;-)

As I walked to the vending machines at work yesterday
morning, I was casually tumbling a quarter in my hand. One thing I realized,
and it’s not something I think about often — coins have a certain
recognizable tactile feel to them. As the tips of my fingers touched the
quarter’s surface, I realized that it didn’t feel like a quarter. It was too
smooth. No jagged bumps or ridges.

I
flipped the coin onto the backside of my other hand. It came up heads. GW’s
profile. I flipped it again. Heads. A
double-headed quarter. WTF????

Early retirement flashed before my eyes. I
glanced down the hall, making sure there were no rare coin thieves on the
prowl. Then I snuck the coin back into my wallet and went back to my desk,
to pack my things of course, flip off my boss. And book my flight to Tahiti.

Or not :-( Thirty seconds of internet research told me that what I
had was not an oddity of the US mint but rather, a "magician’s coin" that you can purchase at any novelty shop for a couple of bucks. Turns out they hollow out the tails section and insert a head from a different quarter. Hence the conflicting years. Oh well.

But I had something to show off the rest
of the day. And something to talk to you about. And break the monotony of
the day. And anyway, what are the chances of getting something like this in general circulation, and even then, how often do you examine currency before spending it, much less blindly detect such numismatic trickery with your own fingers? Not often. So it’s still a lucky coin, dammit!(Just ask the good people at BR Numismatics)

In
fact last night, just around midnight, I did a coin toss just before my Ebay
auction closed. Heads I win, tails I lose. Guess how it landed.

So, as luck would have it, tomorrow
I go to Long island to pick up my space age booth and table. So I may not be
a gangsta but at least I can park my ass down where great mob bosses once
sat.

Thank you, lucky quarter!

I remember sitting in a diner in New Jersey with a bunch of friends — a
LONG time ago, probably in high school — and commenting on the
furniture. I said something like "You know, if I ever get my own place,
I want it to be just like this." Sitting a naugehyde-upholstered booth,
elbows up on a formica-laminated table, emptying sugar from a dispenser
into a heavy white porcelain coffee cup and chatting through an extended
caffeine high with close friends.

Well friends, I now have my own place. And I have taken the plunge.
Fingers crossed, for Ebay’s sake, by tonight I should be the proud owner
of a quote-"mid-century-modern space age booth and table", a prized
corner unit no less, with it’s gentle arc and teardrop-shaped table. Not
to jinx myself.

If I win, I have to travel to Looooong Island, NY to pick it up. Oh-my.
My dad and I are cracking the Joey Buttafuoco jokes already. The John
Gotti jokes. The Sammy "the Bull" jokes. Like, we may need to pull up
the naugehyde and foam just to make sure nothing has been "stored"
beneath. But that just makes it more classic.

Wish me luck!

And how’s this for curiosities — in a jubilant fit of merry-pranksterism, pimply teenage punks across the country are stealing Spongebob Squarepants inflatables from the roofs of Burger Kings. Now, this blog does not condone criminal acts, but … uh, c’mon?

My favorite quote from all this comes from a Minnesota sponge-lifter’s ransom note:

"We have SpongeBob. Give us 10 crabby patties, fries, and milkshakes."

And a bottle of anything, and a glazed doughnut. To go!!