Richard
Moore's Straight Talk Columns
Needing
a sanity clause for Christmas stress
21/12/2010
AS
CHRISTMAS zooms up in the Land of the Long White Shroud this fellow
is busily finalising a menu for the big day.
All
the basics are set - cooked ham, champers, seafood - but I'm undecided
on the salads and dessert.
Sigh.
Ah
well, I guess I'll have to make a pav, you know the Aussie culinary
masterpiece.
Cooking
aside, Christmas 2010 is going to be a chilled-out one. No hassles,
no stress.
It's
been a pretty good year despite some of the slings and arrows that
fortune has outrageously flung at me, but there are plenty of people
who have not had such a good time.
Take
Hanover big-wig Marky Hotchin for example.
Hotchin
has just had his considerable assets put on ice by the courts over
the collapse of Hanover and he is not a happy chappie. And poor
old Marky is upset media have been trying to contact him in his
bazillion-dollar hidey hole on the Gold Coast.
He
was not pleased with being questioned over the matter and was even
less keen on being called by his first name.
Marky,
I bet the 16,500 Hanover investors who have lost their life savings
and can't afford to live in style in Australia would be calling
you something else.
But
Marky isn't the only chap under stress at the moment.
So
is John Toomey - also known as Santa Claus in a San Francisco Macy's
department store.
Well,
actually, he's an ex-Santa because he was fired for being a little
too jolly.
Toomey,
who has been with the store for 20 years, was Santa-sacked after
a couple of adults whinged about his cheekiness.
Apparently
they told him they'd been good and he'd said, ``Gee, that's too
bad''.
Who
said Americans don't have senses of humour?
Anyway,
I'm sure you all know who the world's No1 mega-stressed chap is.
Yes,
it's Santa Claus who must be going nuts right about now getting
gifts organised for every good little kiddywinky in the world.
But
as bad as this year may be, it is nothing compared to Christmas
a very long time ago.
Listen
up kids ... Santa was getting everything ready for his Around the
World in 24 hours gig when all hell broke loose.
His
elves got pointy-ear disease and were bed-ridden for a month and
his imported Ooompa Loompas, while great at singing choruses, were
not much chop in the Santa shop.
Running
way behind schedule he spent late nights working alone in his workshop
only to have his beard catch fire on a candle.
Next
up he misplaced his naughty-and-nice list and then discovered that
Rudolph's nose was red because he was a hopeless drunk and had lost
his sleigh-guiding licence.
Santa
was then informed by Mrs Claus that his mother-in-law was due to
arrive.
Who
could blame him? Santa went for the bottle.
Only
trouble was his last bottle of 100-year-old whiskey slipped out
of his hand and smashed on the floor spilling its precious contents
all over his new suede boots.
Santa
lost it.
He
was in a mouth-frothing fury when the doorbell rang.
Wrenching
it open he saw the cutest little angel with big eyes and a huge,
fabulous Christmas tree.
The
little angel cheerily said ``Merry Christmas, Santa. Isn't it a
wonderful day? I have a beautiful tree for you. Where would you
like me to stick it?''
Thus
began the tradition of the angel on top of the Christmas tree.
********
THE
other day I went to a chess tournament in an Auckland hotel between
two teams of undefeated players.
The
rivalry between the Grey Lynn Geeks and the Northcote Nerds was
extreme -so much so they had their own barrackers singing team songs
to put the opposition off - and neither wanted to lose.
It
was cut-throat chess all day.
It
went down to the last game and eventually the top team was decided
by a short-half knight.
Then
it got ugly, the barracking became abuse and spilled out from the
convention room into the hotel foyer.
Both
sides were screaming they were the best and it almost got down to
fisticuffs.
The
hotel clerk called security and all of the geeks were ejected into
the night.
``A
job well done,'' said I to the clerk.
He
responded, ``I don't care if it's Christmas, I can't stand chess
nuts boasting in an open foyer.''
*********
OK
here's a little brain teaser for you guys.
An
honest politician, a kind-hearted lawyer and Santa Claus were walking
down Devonport Rd the other day.
On
the footpath was a $20 note.
The
question is which one picked up the money?
If
you hadn't guessed it was Santa, of course ... the other two don't
exist.
Merry
Christmas everyone and look after your families and friends this
festive season.
richard@richardmoore.com..
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