THE GHOST OF CHRISTMAS YET TO COME

HUMBUG!

By

Jimmy Joe Meeker

"Tell me spirit, are these the spectres of things that must come to pass or only things that could come to pass?"

-Charles Dickens,

"A Christmas Carol"

First Published in The Wilson County Advocate, Vol. 1, No. 28 ©December 17, 1991 by Donald W. Gillette

I found a big red suit, some shiny black boots, and a goofy-looking hat with a white ball on the end of it in the upstairs closet yesterday and not having anything else to do except drink and watch football games, I stripped down to my shorts and then put it all on. When I looked in the mirror, I discovered something that I had secretly suspected for years. I am the reincarnation of Saint Nicholas. I am Santa Claus. No kidding. I always wake up on Christmas morning covered with ashes and soot and I never really knew how is happened until now. Yes, that's right. I got dirty sliding down chimneys.

I know most of you don't believe me, but I can prove it. First of all, I know who's been naughty and I know who's been nice. I also know this girl who's been nice and naughty, but that's another story and I won't go into it here. Second, there's a huge bag filled with presents for most county politicians in the car. And finally, there are a bunch of really short guys cursing and fumbling their way around my workshop. They claim to be building toys. Well, maybe so, but if they don’t' stop hammering all night long, the neighbors are going to put the leeches on me.

It's not easy being the reincarnation of Santa Claus, believe me. For one thing, it's damned cold out most Christmas Eves and sliding down those chimneys is no picnic. And by the way, you might pass this on to your children: milk and cookies don't hit the spot like bourbon and Doritos.

How would you live to have to go into every home in this county after midnight with a big, red bag full of junk? Last year I was almost shot six times in a one-block stretch of Upton Heights and two years ago, I walked in on a local preacher and one of his tenants doing things Jimmy Swaggart only dreams about.

Ho, ho, ho.

But since I've let the cat out of the bag and told you all that I really am Santa Claus, maybe you'll be interested in some of the presents I've got for Wilson County's leading figures:

For County Executive Don Simpson, I've got some new friends. High-priced ones, too. His old ones stunk, so I got him the best friends money can buy.

For Sheriff Terry Ashe, I've got Andy Griffith's old uniform. Everybody trusted Andy. His jail was never full and Floyd kept his hair cut.

Lebanon Mayor Bobby Jewell should be happy with his gift this year. A signed agreement from Don Fox not to help him anymore.

And speaking of Fox, his gift this year will be a longer fuse. The one he's been using since joining the council is much too short. I've also got him a paper bag to breathe into next time he gets to mad he starts hyperventilating.

County Commissioner Gilbert Graves will be on the receiving end of a conscience this year as will his partners in lunacy, Jerald Phillips and Wayne Drennon. They pal Road Superintendent Val Kelley was scheduled to get a shiny, new bike but it looks like there's some question as to whether he's qualified to ride it, so there's been a last minute switch. Instead of the bike, he's going to get a free ride down Coles Ferry Pike in a 1988 pickup truck followed by a meal of liver and onions. He'll need the liver, too, because his'll be jarred loose somewhere between North Cumberland and the country club.

Commissioner James Francis should have a happy Christmas morning when he finds his present, the new game "Haven't Got A Clue" wrapped beneath the tree. And Commissioners Joy Bishop, Arah Preston, and Carolyn Thompson should really enjoy playing with their new Marie Antionette Barbie dolls. It was tough getting the little blond bimbos to say "Let 'em eat cake" when you pull that sting in their backs, but it was well worth the effort.

Lebanon Council members Bobby Wynne and Jeannie Smith are each getting a lame duck this year, and Gary Keith gets a copy of his favorite movie, "The Ghost and Mr. Chicken."

Fred Burton should be pleased with the streetlights I'm going to plant along the Interstate, but I don't want him to misunderstand. These lights are not a present. I'm just sick to death of hearing him bitch about them. Councilman Jerry Hunt will be getting a bottle of Grecian Formula 49 and a pair of earplugs suitable for use the next time Don Fox starts with him about what's legal and what's not.

There are a few more gifts in my politician's bag here, but this year, I think I'll just give them out to the officials who bothered to do something, right or wrong, in Wilson County.

I do have one more gift for all those County Commissioners who've spent the last year sitting on their thumbs up there in the courthouse; one more gift for those commissioners you never hear about because they're too stupid of lazy to do anything at all:

Nuts to you, you worthless bastards.

No one here gets out alive.

XXX