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FAMILY.
Religious Cousin Ruins Family's Christmas MONTOURSVILLE, PA-The arrival of devout Christian cousin Barb Krueger has "for all practical purposes ruined" the Langan family's chances of having an enjoyable holiday season, sources reported Monday.
The Langan family struggles to enjoy the holiday season despite their guest.
"Christmas Day is something our whole family greatly looks forward to, drinking eggnog, opening presents, sitting around the family room in our pajamas and robes, and sipping hot cocoa throughout the day," said Marv Langan, 51. "Well, you can forget about that this year, with Barb hovering over us with her Bible."
The Langans have for years treasured Christmas as a time for family bonding and good cheer. But all that is likely to change this year due to the presence of Krueger, 30, who describes herself as having "a deeply committed personal relations.h.i.+p with my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ."
"Jesus is the reason for the season," Krueger said.
The trouble began for the Langans in early December, when the family was contacted by Krueger, who explained that she was in the Montoursville area for a six-week Bible-study program and looking for a place to spend the holidays. The Langans, who readily welcomed the visiting cousin into their home, were unaware that she had spent a majority of her adult life attending various "personal enrichment programs," converting to a conservative synod of the Lutheran church and gradually alienating all non-Christian members of her social circle.
"The first thing she did when she got here was explain that our Christmas tree was a pagan tradition Jesus never would have approved of," said mother Janet Langan, 49. "Not long after, she nearly fainted when she discovered we didn't have an Advent calendar in the house, so Marv had to run out and buy one."
With Krueger's arrival came other changes, as well. The Langans, who belong to Montoursville's Holy Christ Almighty Church but attend services just a few times a year, soon found themselves roped into twice-weekly visits.
"Last Thursday night, I'd just baked a pie, and the whole gang was getting ready to go sledding together," Janet said. "Next thing you know, Barb is asking about Advent services. I'd forgotten that there was such a thing. Well, there was no sledding that night, let me tell you."
Other holiday-cheer-killing activities foisted upon the family include daily "devotionals" involving candle-lighting and scripture readings, formal prayers before all meals, and longwinded harangues explaining why Jesus wants the Langans to reject such "blasphemously secular" holiday TV specials as Frosty The Snowman and Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer.
"Caroling is usually my favorite thing," 8-year-old Justin Langan said. "But Cousin Barb says we shouldn't sing Santa songs. All she likes is stupid, hard-to-sing, religious stuff about Good King Wenceslaus and Feast of Stephen-c.r.a.p like that."
According to daughter Brianna Langan, 17, the family's annual trip to see Santa Claus at the local mall was "a complete wash-out" because of Krueger.
"It totally sucked this year," Brianna said. "The whole time, everybody just stood there all quiet, glancing back at Cousin Barb, worried about what she would think." Brianna added that while waiting in line to see Santa, her visiting cousin told her she shouldn't be wearing makeup at her age.
"I didn't talk to one boy the whole time we were at the mall," said Mich.e.l.le Langan, Brianna's 15-year-old sister. "Every time I saw somebody I knew from school, Cousin Barb just glared at them and scared them off. She says Jesus teaches us to love the sinner and condemn the sin, but I hate her."
"I hope she never comes back here again," Mich.e.l.le continued. "I hope she gets run over by a bus and goes to Heaven. That way, she could spend the holidays with her best friend Jesus."
NEWS IN BRIEF.
Poor Kwanzaa Sales Disappoint Retailers WAs.h.i.+NGTON, DC-Kwanzaa officials received sobering news Monday, as the Department of Commerce announced that Kwanzaa holiday sales for the U.S. totaled $178. The figure represents the lowest total since 1992, the year the holiday was invented. At Abe's Kwanzaa Emporium in Los Angeles, rows of unsold Kwanzaa trees were thrown out, while rolls of Kwanzaa-themed wrapping paper gathered dust in giant bins. Even A&M Records' much-hyped holiday CD, A Bryan Adams Kwanzaa, fared poorly, selling just three copies.
NEWS.
Weed Delivery Guy Saves Christmas MADISON, WI-The holidays evoke images of carolers and hot cocoa, sleigh rides through the crisp country air, and chestnuts roasting on an open fire. But for the four residents of a drafty little apartment on Johnson Street, such holiday traditions seemed nothing more than fairy tales. For, through a combination of poverty, circ.u.mstance, and plain old bad luck, these young gentlemen nearly saw their holiday dreams shattered like so many fallen ornaments.
The weed guy delivers holiday tidings.
Almost, but not quite. For although there would be no yule log in the fireplace, a crackling blaze of another kind would come to warm the hearts of the hapless roommates. For, these four lucky friends had a guardian angel watching over them, and this is the heartwarming true story of how the weed delivery guy saved Christmas.
"Dude, I was so b.u.mmed when I found out my stupid supervisor scheduled me for first s.h.i.+ft Christmas Eve," said Patrick Moynihan, 26, a "part-time musician and full-time phone drone." "I was like, 'Come on, I gotta go to Milwaukee to see my old man and watch the game.' He was like, 'Sorry man, life's rough. You should've remembered to ask off.' "
"It's not like Milwaukee's so great," Moynihan added, "but it beats spending Christmas alone in my s.h.i.+thole apartment."
But, in a turn of events Moynihan described as "X-Files-type s.h.i.+t," each of his remaining roommates-first Dirk, then Kleist, and finally even White Jimmy-watched their Christmas plans come undone, leaving the four housemates together in Madison on the night before Christmas.
"I was supposed to go home with this chick and meet her parents," said Dirk Udell, 24, a part-time bicycle-store clerk and ba.s.sist. "But we totally got into this huge fight the night before, and she was like, 'Sayonara, sweetheart.' Then Kleist got wasted and slept through his flight, and White Jimmy's credit card got turned down at the bus station, because he maxed it out on that amp he bought."
Individual heartbreak turned into collective joy when the roommates realized that they could have their own Christmas ... together.
"We said, 'f.u.c.k it,' " James "White Jimmy" Gaines said. "We were like, 'We have all the ingredients for old-time holiday cheer right here: some brews, the tube, and the Chinese place across the street that never closes on holidays.' We even cleaned the living room and washed the dishes. Then fate threw a monkey wrench."
"Dudes, it's a no go," Kleist said before delivering the bad news. "Carl totally flaked on us. He left for Michigan already."
The roommates' faces turned ashen: There would be no Christmas weed.
"I was, like, 'No way, man!' " Moynihan said. "Kleist even called all our friends, trying to find someone who was holding, but everyone was out of town. We tried to drum up some Christmas cheer, but there was no escaping the sad reality that the four of us had all this time to hang out, but no pot."
Disconsolate, the roommates went through the motions of sc.r.a.ping the bowl for resin. But, in their hearts, they knew that it wasn't enough to get them high. Peering out of the fourth-floor window, gazing at the munic.i.p.al streetlight decorations below, they felt that Christmas had deserted them ... Or had it?
The residents of Apt. 4-D celebrate Christmas together.
"That's when Jimmy-I think it was Jimmy. It could've been Kleist-wait, was it Jimmy or Kleist?" Moynihan said. "Aw, never mind-whoever it was looked up and said, 'Hey Dirk, why don't we try the number that that guy who worked at Big Mike's Subs gave you?' "
After searching high and low with the help of his three determined roommates, Udell located the piece of paper containing the phone number given to him by his old stoner buddy Javier.
"Javier told me he hardly knows the dealer, but the guy always has really great s.h.i.+t and he comes right over," Udell said. "Kleist was all like, 'Who in their right mind is gonna be out delivering weed on Christmas Eve?' But I was like, 'What would it hurt to give the number a try?' "
"We were so psyched when he answered his cell on the second ring!" Udell added.
The roommates busily prepared for the weed guy's arrival by laying out Chips Ahoy cookies on paper plates, loading disks into the CD changer, and lovingly placing a new screen in the bong. All the while, they listened for the crunch-crunch-crunch of his footsteps on the snowy walk and the jingle-jangle-jingle of the Apt. 4-D buzzer. They even put the porch light on for the dude, so he'd feel welcome. And when, in less than an hour, the weed delivery guy showed up bearing a gift more precious than gold, the roommates' hearts soared with joy.
"That stranger brought us something so much better than any store-bought gift," Moynihan said. "I don't know his name-it's considered bad form to ask-but he taught us that Christmas wishes can come true, if you believe."
And so it was that the weed delivery guy-hardworking, dedicated, and discreet-saved Christmas in the nick of time.
"We may not have had a big tree and all that," Moynihan said. "And there wasn't eggnog dusted with nutmeg, 'cause the only time we ever had any nutmeg in the house was the time we tried to trip on it. Not recommended, by the way. But we had a happy Christmas all the same."
It wasn't long before all through the house, not a creature was stirring up off the couch. The boys opened the baggie and packed a bowl with delight, murmuring, "Happy Christmas, weed delivery guy. You did us one right."
NEWS IN BRIEF.
Dad's Marine Corps Training Evident During Christmas-Present Opening CHARLESTON, SC-Retired Cpl. Kent Packard, 58, rarely puts his Marine Corps expertise to use, except during the yearly Christmas gift exchange, family sources reported Monday. "Every year, exactly two hours after cutting the ham, Dad makes us line up by the tree, then he distributes the presents to us in increasing order of age," his 17-year-old son Jerome said. "When he unwraps his own gifts, he lines up the pieces of cardboard and plastic packaging in a neat row, like he's field-stripping a rifle." Although family members say they admire Packard's ac.u.men, they've warned him against waking the house with a Christmas-morning bugle rendition of "Jingle Bells."
OPINION.
It's Christmas Time-And I'm In A Holi-Daze!
'Twas the weeks before Christmas, And all through my home, Until my kids get some presents They won't leave me alone!
Write On The Funny!
By Roger Dudek
Well, folks, it's that time of year again. The time when we all gather round the fireplace to celebrate the miraculous birth of a child that happened over 2,000 years ago. No, I'm not talking about Andy Rooney! I'm talking about Christmas-and you know what that means: Run for your lives! The fruitcakes are coming!
Now, if you're a loyal reader (This week's Tip of the Santa's Hat goes to Ann Marie Ganz of Portage, MI!) you know I've never been too nuts (or fruits) about fruitcake. But honestly, who is? The last time anyone actually took a bite of a fruitcake was 1952, and I should know-it's still sitting on my mother's kitchen table with a fork stuck in it. It was there so long she finally had to put it in her will ... as the thing that probably killed her! Talk about a recipe for disaster. This one takes the cake!
But seriously, folks, if the mailman tries to bring one of those things to my door this year, I'll be spending Christmas in prison for a.s.sault with a deadly confection.
Turns out waking up to something that's about as crusty, old, and stale as Keith Richards is the least of my worries this holiday season. (Did someone say, "I Can't Get No Fruit-Filled-Confection?") With only a few shopping days left before the dreaded 25th, it's time to hit the stores! Best Buy, Target, Toys "R" Too-Expensive-for-You-to-Afford ... they're like loony bins filled with crazy parents fighting over the one hot item everyone's trying to s.n.a.t.c.h up first: a parking s.p.a.ce! You guys know what I'm talking about. The last time I saw this many grown adults fighting over a piece of concrete, it was dividing Berlin!
Parking lot? More like parking little, if you ask me.
Even if I do get a s.p.a.ce, I don't have a clue what to buy once I get inside. Bicycles and digital cameras and DVDs-oh my! It's all about video games this year, and my kids are starting to sound like little piglets: "Wii, Wii, Wii!"
I told them they'd be getting a Wii for Christmas ... just as soon as I win the loterii (lottery)!
Whatever happened to waking up Christmas morning to a new sled and a pair of tube socks? The only "video game" I remember playing in my youth was trying to hit "record" on the VCR right at the beginning of It's A Wonderful Life. "Every time a bell rings an angel gets its wings." And every time four bells ring it's one of my kids calling me with another battery-operated doohickey to add to the list! I'm telling you, they're getting so demanding, it's practically ex-toy-rtion!
Now, call me the Grinch, but there's a better chance of an embryo attaching itself to my wife's hostile uterine lining than there is of me heading down to the Costco to spend a week's pay on some souped-up Atari nonsense. The only Resident Evil that's coming into this house on Christmas is Aunt Judy's Waldorf salad!
And speaking of family, what would Christmas be without a visit from the relatives? I'll tell you what...happy! My whole family in the same place at once? Ho, Ho, Holy smokes, I gotta get out of here! Christmas morning's going to be a sugarplum nightmare! No, but seriously, why doesn't somebody just hit me with a yule log right in the eggnog-gin, because unless I make a break for the North Pole, the only reindeer I'll be seeing this holiday season is my Uncle Howard getting Blitzen. Silent Night? Holy Hangover!
Oh, I sleigh me!
I guess there's nothing left to do but hang my stockings, eat some Christmas cookies, and wait patiently for the night when my house will be visited by a fat, bearded stranger who lives up north and has been secretly watching me all year.
But enough about my mother-in-law! Merry Christmas!
NEWS.
Important Christmas Lessons Already Forgotten HARTFORD, CT-As the nation moves on from last month's family gatherings, churchgoing, and goodwill toward men, the annual post-Christmas readjustment process is proceeding on schedule, with millions of Americans forgoing their temporary generosity of spirit and resuming their petty, miserable treatment of one another.
A Christmas tree, symbol of "the most special time of the year," lies discarded in a Norfolk, VA, alley.
Though the joy and glad tidings of the holiday season are mere weeks behind us, sources report that more than 85 percent of 1999's Christmastime lessons have already been forgotten, with that number expected to reach 98 percent by as early as next week.
"Christmas is a magical time of year when people of all ages and backgrounds put aside their differences and are reminded of the things that truly count: the joy of giving, the gleam in a young child's eye, and the sound of voices raised together in song," said James Samuelson of the Hartford-based Inst.i.tute For American Cultural Mores & Values, which tracks the rise and fall of human love and kindness throughout the year. "Mid-January to early February, by contrast, is a magical time of year when people forget all about that stuff. This leads to mid- to late February, a magical time of year when people everywhere feel overpowering, soul-crus.h.i.+ng emotional pain, causing them to hate their co-workers, their loved ones, and themselves."
Evidence of this phenomenon can be seen across the country, with Christmas miracles of universal benevolence and spiritual uplift degenerating into mid-January miracles of everyday ba.n.a.lity and neglect. Corporations that donated generously to the homeless and various charities mere weeks ago have resumed their usual cutthroat, profit-driven practices. Children who learned the important lesson that it is better to give than receive are refusing to share their expensive new toys with less fortunate playmates, gloating over their possessions, and berating the other children for being poor. And the many career-focused dads who made a major breakthrough during the holiday season, vowing to spend quality time with their wives and children, are systematically unlearning these realizations of what truly matters and returning to their dysfunctional workaholic patterns.
"I hadn't seen my ailing grandmother, who just turned 91 and lives all alone out in Arizona, in over three years," said Boston investment banker Carl Thompson on Dec. 27. "But then, the wife and I, along with several other members of our church, went caroling at the homes of various elderly shut-ins as part of our holiday outreach program. As I looked into the eyes of those poor souls, so happy to have visitors on this bl.u.s.tery winter evening, I learned a valuable lesson about life, about family, and about myself. It was hard to book a flight out to Phoenix at the last minute, but just when it looked like there were no seats left, a reservation was canceled, and I made it out there to visit Grandma in time for Christmas Eve. It was a Christmas miracle. I know that G.o.d wanted me to be on that plane."
When asked about his grandmother again Tuesday, Thompson said, "That old bag? Christ, she didn't call again, did she? Does she think the world revolves around her and her stupid heart-medication stories she drones on and on about all day and night? Jesus, I'm a busy man here."
Janice Frye, 34, a Los Angeles single mother, related a similarly moving story on Dec. 29.
"My 6-year-old son Brandon is a real handful, suffering from hyperactivity and a whole host of emotional problems. Sometimes the stress of taking care of him all by myself is just too much. But then, when I think of the little baby Jesus lying in the manger, I realize how special and wonderful Brandon really is. On Christmas Eve, when he gave me a drawing he made that said, 'I Love Mommy,' I knew he is the one true light of my life."