I’ve updated a blog from yesteryear on the writer’s site, A Slice of Orange. Squeezed between Halloween and Christmas, it often feels like Thanksgiving might become a holiday wannabe.
Click the link here to read – Happy Hallothanksgivingmas.
After surviving this past year’s extended edition of the Barnum & Bailey/Nintendo reality game, Jumbo the Elephant versus Donkey Kong, I decided to substitute my usual introspective, holiday missive with a festive infusion of humor. I thought a trip down memory lane of what used be considered acceptable holiday advertising in days gone by might fit the bill. I’m a big fan of vintage advertisements, and follow a few Pinterest pages dedicated to it. I was born in the early fifties, and some ads invoke warm flashbacks of when I was a tyke (and no, I didn’t ride horseback to school, we had cars). We had a different mindset inherited from the earliest days of the twentieth-century. Looking back, some of those ads now have me ROTFL.
Back in 2012, I was asked to guest post a holiday article to cheer folks up during difficult economic times. I blew the dust off it, and added a couple more graphics.
To quote a cigarette campaign from 1968, “We’ve come a long way baby.” Enjoy.
Original Guest Blog Post – Blame it On The Muse, December 12, 2012
Many folks long for the good old days, especially holidays filled with nostalgic childhood memories of crackling hearth fires, and family gathered around a decorated, live-cut tree. Mom served eggnog in her new apron. Dad lit up a Lucky in his favorite chair. The kids wore their Sunday finest, jiggling with impatience for Santa to come.
Did anybody notice I missed October? Who could tell? When I went into Walmart a few weeks ago to get some Halloween treats, the seasonal aisles had Christmas decorations. I found broken bags of candy in a bin near the exit. What’s that all about?
Hey, I’ve been chin-deep in a sci-fi story. Went upstairs the other day to refresh my caffeine drip and discovered October had come and gone. I didn’t even put out a pumpkin. All those damn doorbell chimes a couple weeks back? I thought they were church solicitors with an urgent need to save my soul. The Halloween candy I bought is still on the counter. I’m surprised my front door didn’t get egged.
Diehards nationwide are lining up to run in the holiday Turkey Trot. Imagine a marathon of a different kind. Participants hop about like caged rabbits on too much caffeine, flabs of steel barely contained by Kevlar reinforced spandex. It’s a record crowd of sumo wrestler contestants with tattooed contest numbers emblazoned on their foreheads, waiting for the starting gun for this year’s Blubber Trot. First hundred finishers get to be first in line at the communal Horn-of-Plenty table. Those who don’t finish, have to watch Hunger Games 3 without popcorn. Paying spectators will be allowed wander the leftover carnage and ask, “Are you going to eat that?”
It’s my annual humorous take on what I blithely refer to as the advent of blubber season (see last year’s article, Tis the Season to be Gluttonous). The holiday season is like no other time of the year. We dust off the George Bailey personality left in a drawer from last year, greet everyone like family, and gorge like our prehistoric forbearers did when they felled a mammoth. Would you like leg meat or trunk?
I went to one of those holiday parties where gifts were distributed at random, opened, then gamed, with participants allowed to “steal” from one another. Never understood what the appeal was. Since everyone knew what they got, the poor sap who recieved a bottle of wine, promptly loses it to someone who got the fingernail clipper. Where I come from, in homage to Let’s Make a Deal, and the great Monty Hall, gifts are proffered and exchanged before you open them.
While safely bunkered during Black Weekend (used to be Black Friday), giving thanks for what we already have, a quiet moment alone (always a dangerous scenario), had me pondering of things we’re still waiting for as a modern society. I grew up expecting we’d have flying cars by this time, and believed the book “2001 Space Odyssey” to be less fiction, more coming soon, give or take a few years. Hell, we put a guy on the moon in the sixties, a first step to our planetary neighbors. Granted, I was a kid, and never considered serious concepts of economic reality, but really, it’s 2014 already. Why aren’t we throwing Frisbees on Mars?
With Thanksgiving around the corner, thoughts turn to chilly days, roseate cheeks, the promise of snow, and the advent of blubber season. Some are of the opinion that our annual glutton festival begins at Halloween, evident by tacky fingerprints from stealth-diving into the kids goodie bag. As far as I’m concerned, the starting bell for the World Series of holiday binging, technically rings on Thanksgiving Day. Unlike our puritan ancestors, who ate foods native to the New World, our modern tables groan with big-breasted birds, carbs the density of a black hole,and sugar confections to send us all to diabetics anonymous.
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