HAPPY 2010!!

Have you ever wondered why New Year’s Eve dances on the heels of Christmas?  I have a theory about that. 

See, the Christmas fuse is lit after the last “trick-or-treat” is hollered, and the sparks fly.  There is all the cooking and baking for Turkey Day, the cooking and baking for Christmas, the addressing of Christmas cards, decorating (inside and out), wrapping gifts, delivering gifts, and keeping the pets out of the Christmas ornaments.  By the end of December everyone is either comatose or desiring to be.

Then, hallelujah, New Year’s Eve beckons.  New Year’s Eve is the culmination of all that craziness.  It is the last hurrah before the New Year sets in and life returns to some version of normal.  Even people who crawl into bed before the Times Square Ball Drop (or the Underground Atlanta Peach Drop for us Georgians) recognize that the madness is—thank you, Lord—boxed up ‘til next year.

Now, I know what you’re thinking.  You’re thinking I’m using New Year’s Eve as an excuse to drink too many margaritas, eat too many goodies and wear a silly hat. 

Okay, well, maybe you’re right about the hat. . .and I might concede the margaritas and goodies, too.  But that’s just the point! After all the stress and end-of-year build-up, the New Year’s Eve doctor arrives and his prescription is to “let off some holiday steam” and most people do. (As the NYE doc is a metaphor he can look however you want him to.  Mine looks like George Clooney and he has a brownie in one hand, a margarita on the rocks in the other, and he is wearing a big, sexy smile.)

Can you imagine the end of the Christmas rush without New Year’s Eve following after? Whatever would we do with all that pent up frustration and stress?  If there were no New Year’s Eve to set us up for January how would we muster the energy to de-ornament the tree, the house, the yard and put Frosty-the-giant-balloon-Snowman back in the attic?

New Year’s Eve is medically required therapy and good for our mental health.  The margaritas and brownies have nothing to do with it.

That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.

Have a safe and happy New Year’s Eve, and may all your doctors in 2010 look like George Clooney!

‘Til next time –

Lisa

Christmas Spirit

     Charles Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol” made its annual appearance the other night. Old bagger that I am, I nodded off through part of Christmas Past and Present.  Later, Tiny Tim uttered his famous line without me because I was staring into the kitchen pantry wishing a can of beets would morph into a bag of M&M’s.  The M&M’s never materialized, so I ended up back in front of the tube grumbling, “Humbug!”  I settled for an Oreo cookie, but my chocolate craving remained unfulfilled.

     Scrooge was unhappy, too, sobbing over his own gravestone and begging the Spirit of Christmas Future for a chance to change the course of his life. He promised to hold the Spirit of Christmas in his heart every day and not just at the Christmas season. 

     I have always focused on the story’s message that we have the power to impact our future by changing our behavior in the present. (For instance, how this Oreo cookie I'm munching tonight will evidence itself on my hips tomorrow.)  Keeping the Spirit of Christmas inside us every day, with every breath—that concept I never fully pondered. 

     First, we would all have to agree on what the Spirit of Christmas is. I believe it is being kind to others, being grateful for what we have, loving each other and forgiving one another in spite of our differences and foibles.  The Spirit of Christmas is the contentment we find in the presence of our loved ones, and the happiness derived from joyful giving. 

     Surprise! I thought of religion not even once.

     Christmas is more than just a Christian holiday. When I was a kid, most folks understood this concept. No one took offense at the trappings of Christmas because of the good things that ride on this holiday’s coattails. Not so much these days, with political correctness running amok. Too bad, because “good will toward men” is a positive thing, no matter what religion one practices.

     In spite of that, I still believe there is plenty of Christmas to go around. As a Christian, I celebrate Christ in the holiday, but if I awoke with amnesia and no recollection of being Christian, Jewish or Muslim I would yet delight in the sight of shy children talking to Santa.  I would still be grateful for the love of my family.  I would enjoy the lights on the neighborhood homes, and understand that dropping loose change into the Salvation Army bucket and donating canned goods to the local food bank should continue past December 31^st.  

     That each person’s heart might, every day, hold alive the Spirit of Christmas is as impossible as turning a can of beets into a bag of M&M’s; and yet, I wonder . . . perhaps the miracle lies not in wanting it to happen, but in believing with all of my heart that one day, it will. 

     May the Spirit of Christmas drift upon you, gentle as a snowflake and bright as a star; may the gifts of love and hope be visited upon you in abundance; and may God bless us. . .every one.

Merry Christmas -

Lisa

Rockin' with the Rockettes

Our family jumped into the Christmas season with the Radio City Christmas Spectacular show at the beautiful Fox Theater in Atlanta.  We enjoyed two hours of holiday music, bright costumes, and precision dancing. 

If you want talented women with Gumby-like flexibility, the Rockettes are hard to beat.

The Rockettes have been an American institution for 77 years.  During that time more than 3,000 women have danced as Rockettes.  To be considered, a woman must have a bright, sunny personality that beams from the stage.  She must excel at modern dance, jazz, tap and ballet.  She must be between 5-feet 6-inches and 5-feet 10.5-inches in height. She must be able to cook an eight course meal in stilettos and a Santa hat.

Okay, I’m kidding about the eight course meal. 

Anyway, the height variance is interesting, because on stage they appear to all be identical, leggy, 10-foot-tall beauties.  This illusion is achieved by placing the tallest dancers in the center and decreasing height out to the ends. Pretty slick, huh?

I watch talented dancers with awe because dancing is a skill at which I do not excel.  My dance floor moves are best likened to the wagging tail of a Labrador Retriever—going every direction at once with no discernible rhythm.

In the late ‘70s when every female in America wanted to be Olivia Newton-John in Grease, I planted my butt on the disco dance floor just like my contemporaries.  My hair curlicued a la the Streisand Sizzle (remember Barbra’s do in A Star Is Born?) and I had a stretchy, black pant-and-jacket get-up that would still turn heads today (“Holy cow, Bubba, look what happened to your old Corvair seat covers!”).  I was a sight to behold.  Really.

For the good of mankind I deep-sixed the disco outfit and swore off dancing.  I still twirl around the kitchen with my dogs every now and then, but they’re Labs and they think I rock.  My moves, their wagging tails. . .we’re perfect dance partners.

For the real deal, however, I suggest you stick with the Rockettes.  Synchronized to perfection and jingle-bell rocking the night away, they are the perfect kick-off to Christmas. 

Only 15 days 'til Santa!

Lisa

Maintain the Muffin-Top!

Today was supposed to be the first day of my diet.  I planned to hit the Weight Watchers points system—the only weight loss program with which I have ever found success—intent on dropping the ten big ones I’ve gained since PaPa moved in and took over the kitchen.  PaPa is a wonderful chef who believes taste trumps calories and to whom low-fat means frying in olive oil instead of butter.  My muffin-top is a testament to his spatula wielding ways.

Anyway, I gave up the diet plans in favor of a happy holiday.  Initiating a diet between Thanksgiving and Christmas would be nothing short of torture, and I am not a masochistic madam…so to speak.  All those goodies!  Far better to nibble in moderation than to not nibble at all because, let’s face it, we all know I’m not going to pass up praline pecans or Auntie Honey’s annual fudge.  Or Carrie’s turtles.  Or Linda’s nut rolls.

Or, heaven forbid, dark chocolate Peanut M&Ms in those bright holiday colors!

Instead of actually dieting, the big challenge will be to somehow not gain an additional five pounds between now and January 1^st.  I think that is an admirable goal, all things considered. 

Since the thought of counting points through the holidays was stressing me, I think I should be congratulated for inventing a means of relieving holiday food guilt.  I abolished dieting but retained an admirable goal: Maintain the Muffin-Top. 

Hmmm…somehow that sounded better before it was actually put in writing.

What I mean is, as long as I don’t gain any more fluff, I’ll consider the Christmas season to be a rollicking success.

Soon enough the New Year will loom large and I’ll be measuring my Raisin Bran portions and noshing raw carrots.  And that will totally work for January. 

But this is December, my friends—the season of cookies and candy and mulled wine; of holiday parties and New Year’s feasts. So I say eat, drink, be merry, and Maintain the Muffin-Top!

Wishing everyone a Merry Christmas and good eats –

Lisa