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Ho, Ho, Haw, Haw by Gary D. Crawford

Oh, right. It’s that time of year again. You understand, of course, that it isn’t the festivities, or the visits, the sweets, the shopping, or even the gift-giving that I mind. Actually, except for the shopping, I sort of like that stuff. No, it’s not that. The problem is that this is the season of the year when I can walk into a shop and have someone say, “Oh, hi Santa!” Then they laugh and wait for me to say something of equal devastating wit. Usually I grin, look at the person who made the bon mot, and say in my heartiest voice, “And have you

been a good little boy this year?” If the wisecracker is female, regardless of age, I am strongly tempted to ask if she’d like to sit on Santa’s lap. But I don’t. It’s all very droll. Doubtless many of you have had exactly the same experience and know what I’m talking about. Well, at least some of you – the guys anyway. Well, the guys with beards at least, specifically those of you with full beards. White beards, of course, which means, unless you’re into hair coloring, you also need a few years on you. Well, you’d need to be a white guy and, now that I think about it, you can’t be bald, either. And, okay, yes, I suppose one’s girth may have something to do with it, too. Anyway, enough! You old fat white guys with white beards and snowy heads of hair know exactly what I’m talking about, right? It’s not a lot of fun, is it? A couple of years ago we headed across the Bay Bridge for our daughter’s house in Manassas. Being a bit low on gas, I pulled into a filling station up on Route 50. After all, it was Christmas Eve day. It would be just my luck to run out of gas somewhere in the wilds of Virginia and find no place open. So, I filled up and breezed into the store to pay. A guy

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December 2011 Tidewater Times  

December 2011 Tidewater Times

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