Well, ‘tis the season, THE SEASON.  The leaves have fallen, (mostly). The stock market preceded the leaves and that is what rules the season.  I have considered rewriting an old Christmas classic concerning the season. Y’all are familiar with the original:

Tis the season to be jolly,

Fa la la la la- la la la la.

My revised edition, in keeping with the economy, goes like this:

Once again we are all paupers,

Fa la la la la – la la la la.

Wally World has took our dollars,

Fa la la la la- la and where’d it go.

Rug rats, Uncles, Sisters, Daughters,

All got a hand out Fa la la.

Finance Christmas, it’s a slaughter,

Fa la la la la – la we’re all broke now.  

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m all into Christmas.  I cannot express in words the joy I see reflected in the eyes of  the young and innocent. 

What gives me even greater pleasure is the expressions on their parents’ faces when they are shuffling credit cards in mid-January, to see who has the most leftovers at the bank.  

I remember as a small (but not necessarily innocent) child, my father’s comment was, “Next year I’ll have some buckshot handy for that old elf and his crew.  If  you get the front deer you got them all.  He’ll be easy to hit. You can see him in the dark.  He’ll be wearing an old Ford tail light on his nose.”  

I felt sorry all of my life for the rest of that reindeer crew, even though Daddy never carried out the threat. Donder and Blitzen, Cupid and Vixen, etc., had to come to the cold hard fact that if you ain’t the lead reindeer the view is always the same. 

Well, they keep on coming, one red nose and a whisker ahead of the post-seasonal bill collectors.  Some of those rascals are retired re-po men and a select few, I suspect, are antique bounty hunters.  Personally, I feel that they are in the same class as professional shop lifters.  I think we should go back to the  “good ole days,” and give everybody what they deserve based on merit, and no more.  

Seriously, that won’t work no more, no how.  There ain’t enough willow switches in the Mississippi River Basin to do justice to these scoundrels these days.  My grandkids don’t hang up traditional stockings anymore.  They are spiking Big Mama panty hose on the mantle with 16 penny nails and railroad spikes.  Do you realize how much willow switch cord wood, and tons of coal, it would take to load a sling shot like that?  Most of us would still have to finance it, just like Christmas, so what would be the point?

It looks like a Dollar Store Christmas for us.

Lookin’ for a Buck,

(not pun intended)

Ricky Harpole