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A Boomer’s Journal

By Tom Anselm

Couple days before Christmas and all through this place

We are anxiously laboring to finish the race.

The hours of roof-time had not been in vain;

I managed to finish, in spite of the pain.

Those lights were all working, much to my surprise,

I plugged in the last strand and opened my eyes

To see the old homestead go bright in the dark.

I sure didn’t want to be like old buddy Clark.

You know, that guy who strung lights to get ready,

Only to suffer his “dear Cousin Eddie”….

That film is a classic, a holiday fave,

But let me continue with this Yuletide rave.

Kids stockings are hung by our chimney, it’s true…

With increasing grandkids, we’ve got quite a few.

There’s five scattered ‘round, with one more on the way,

And one, who calls home Californ-I-A,

Who’ll experience Christmas with sunshine and sand…

Oh, how I’d love to hold her little hand.

(Still lots to be done, can’t be melancholy,

Gotta deck all them halls with them big boughs of holly.)

But last night I lay sleeping and heard a loud crash,

Could that be a raccoon upsetting the trash?

I glanced at the missus, and she was a-sleeping,

So on down to the hallway window I went peeping.

You could scarcely believe what I saw as I viewed…

“What the heck?” muttered I. “You must be trippin’, dude!”

For out on that lawn in a Mustang bright red

Was an old guy with whiskers and a big old bald head.

He wore a red sweat suit and black hi-top “Chucks”,

And he looked like some weirdo out getting his yucks.

He said not a word, but popped open the trunk,

And the light of the moon, it showed all sorts of junk.

I had to check out what this old guy was into

So I pulled on the blinds as I yanked up the window.

“Hey you, down there, on the yard with the stuff…

Don’t make me come down there…don’t make me get rough!”

The fellow just grinned as he turned up my way,

“Take a chill pill, there, grampa, and do not dismay.

Why, I’m just the man that you need in a pinch.

I’ll fill up your family room….every dang inch.

But I’m too old for chimneys, and it’s too late for playin’,

So give me a hand, here…You hear what I’m sayin’?”

You can guess I was dazed at the sight of this gent,

But downstairs I stumbled, and outdoors I went.

He loaded us up with huge piles of great stuff

Like toys, gifts and clothing…his game was no bluff.

He handled the big things, which was all right with me,

Already the cold was aching my knee.

When at last as the trunk was just emptied all out,

He gave me a wink, then he let out a shout….

“WooooHoooo!” said the guy as he rose like a star,

And when he was gone….. He had left me his car!

My best Christmas ever? Not really; no way.

Our best was our first born one past Christmas Day.

But, guess what, this here one was pretty dang fine.

Didn’t cost me no nickel, didn’t cost me one dime.

So if you see me gunnin’ that ‘Twang” through the streets,

With as many can fit in them white leather seats,

You’ll hear me exclaim as I roll down the way

“Happy Christmas To All…I’ll be back New Years Day!”

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