Friday, December 20, 2013

Celebration

I feel like with the exception of the light-up Woody boots I bought for Gibson, every freaking present I've gotten this year is going to be the wrong thing in some way.
Every one of them. Except for those boots and they're sweet.
And Mr. Moon's giant bag of pistachios. That'll be okay.
Sigh...
How do people on tight budgets DO Christmas? I don't think of us as fabulously wealthy but I think we're fairly comfortable and it makes me feel slightly woozy, all the money that we spend this time of year. It's to the point now in stores, and you can see this, where people are just throwing shit into carts, getting it done. It's a frantic attempt to fulfill...something.
I don't know.
I did have a good time at a nursery in Tallahassee today. I bought a present for some friends which is silly and ridiculous and I think they will like it and it made me happy. They're having a little get-together tomorrow and we're actually going and I'll be seeing some of my Monticello friends whom I haven't seen in awhile and that will be very fine. I also bought myself some pansies and violas which I will plant in the rusted red wagon beside the kitchen porch.
So that was good.

But that's not what I came here to talk about. No, what I came here to talk about is the fact that this is going to be on Showtime tonight.




Just in time to save me from my despair and the gloom of the last of the shortest days of the year.

I am not kidding, I am not joking, I am serious as Phil Robertson standing up there on the pulpit with a Bible. I am going to visit the Church of The Rolling Stones and I am just as happy as an old hippy grandma can be. Last year around this time we got the Pay Per View of a Stones concert and in my heart of hearts, I cherish that night as one of the best of my entire life.

Old Duck Dynasty Phil may have given up sex, drugs, and rock and roll but some of us still honor the theory of it all, even if we're not nearly as participatory and wild as we once were and long ago became far more discriminatory about all three of those elements, speaking on a personal level.

But hellfire, Martha. If Mick and Keith and Charlie and Ron can still get up there and do it, if Mick can still hit the high notes and wiggle his great-grandpa hips and jut his chin up in the air and if Keith can still play the chords to Satisfaction with his fingers, crooked and bent from all the years they've spent on fret and keyboard and if Charlie can still hit those drums and if Ron can still do those leads, well, I'm going to sit in the pews and I might even get up and dance.
Gotta have faith in something.

I'll let you know how it goes.

Love...Ms. Moon, Church of the Batshit Crazy Where Keith Richards Is A Constant And Abiding Miracle Of Our Times

14 comments:

  1. Prayaway is how lots of people do it - you put that shit on layaway and pray you have enough to cover it.

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  2. How do people on tight budgets DO Christmas?

    You pretend that you're in a Charles Dickens novel and you write everyone letters instead of sending cards and you give up. You very simply give up all your expectations. Then you cry a lot.

    Hope this helps.
    xo

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  3. Yes. We must pay witness to it all, all the beauty and truth as we know it. I love you.

    WV: essential

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  4. PS -- Radish King. I can't figure out how to comment on your blog, but I am visiting and thinking of you.

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  5. Merry Christmas, Ms. Moon. Your presents will be wonderful and hope your worshipping goes well.

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  6. Next time there is a service for Church of the Batshit Crazy let me know. I will attend even if I have to walk 3, 000 miles from Canada .

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  7. My family quit doing Christmas gifts a few years back, but I sure would like to have me some of those light up Woody boots.

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  8. I wish my family would give up the gifts. I mean, like any of us need anything. It's all so ridiculous.

    I'm glad you can return to the Church of the Stones!

    Has the Google reader-verification thing turned entirely numerical for anyone else, or is it just me? Seems like all I get are numbers these days. Which is fine, I suppose, and maybe even easier to figure out than those letters were.

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  9. "How do people on tight budgets DO Christmas?"

    With a lot of heart ache because one can not afford presents let alone some christmassy food.
    Christmas is mostly a feast for happy people. Unhappy people feel their aches and pains double on those days.

    I am happy now but I sure recall my worst Christmasses... It's not something one lightly forgets.

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  10. Mr. Downtown-Yep.

    Madame Rebecca- I just cry a lot. Period.

    SJ- You're still getting verification words? All I'm getting is numbers. That must have been a Christmas miracle. I love you too.

    Mr. Shife- It went fine, my worshipping!

    Birdie- Oh Lord. My services aren't worth that much effort. But you would be welcome!

    Rubye Jack- They are pretty damn spectacular, these boots!

    heartinhand- And back at you, woman.

    Steve Reed- Numbers for me too! It is easier than the words.

    Photocat- I know! It's so weird. It's so sad. It's so eternally unfair.

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  11. I saw this at the Terrace theater near where we live. It is an awesome theater that shows cool stuff. And this is the best Rock and Roll video I have ever seen. Awesome! Just awesome. I wanted to skip like Mick after seeing this.

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  12. You know, I always have anxiety about the presents I give, too, thinking after the fact that they will be all wrong, or not enough, yet hearing you express the same thing, I know for a fact that they presents you give will be deeply appreciated and loved because they came from you. Funny how much we can learn about ourselves when one holds up a mirror. Ironically, you have helped me resolve this morning to just give what I give and let it be. It is enough. I love you. Happy Saturday! My girl comes home for the holidays in an hour. Woot!

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  13. Syd- He's a world-class skipper, isn't he? I would love to have seen this on the big screen. Glad you got the chance.

    Angella- I am happy to think of you at home with your girl and your boy. That is what it's all about. The presents- just gravy. We all know that and yet, how we despair over what we give. We're so silly.

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Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.