Entry #242
December 23, 2011
Hello Everyone, it’s me Santa Wimsey (not) coming to you from the Upper West Side of Manhattan where, Santa hat not withstanding, I am expecting to be the recipient, rather than the bestower of some Christmas cheer. My human Maria and her friend Elizabeth have bought me some gifts and are also busy discussing the best time to buy me a cup of Grom gelato to help get me in a holiday frame of mind. Nothing quite says Christmas like spoon-feeding a Hound a cup of expensive, Italian gelato.
Pity it won’t help them in the least when it comes to me towing them where I want to go, which in any season is generally some place that I am not supposed to be or else somewhere that there is food that I am not supposed to have. But really feeding me my favorite gelato is just recompense for two weeks worth of making me wear silly hats and a festive ruff. I don’t think anyone would trust a Hound cum reindeer to pull a sled lest they end up treeing a raccoon in it or trust a Hound cum elf or Santa to actually give away toys—at least not without substantial modification.
In any case, in the spirit of the season I once again put in an appearance at the Columbus Circle Christmas market where my imposing presence and loud voice always attract a considerable amount of attention. I was even recognized by one of the vendors owing to the regularity of my annual visits and he was all “Oh look! It’s the Christmas Bloodhound!” which was very gratifying to both my humans and myself. (At least he didn’t say “Oh, no! It’s him again). Nevertheless I was still not allowed to shop in his stall.
This yuletide excursion, as is common with many of my excursions, is fraught with peril and hard work—managing leash and camera whilst preventing me from messing with merchandise or flinging drool and warning those wishing to pet me of the hazards of becoming quickly covered in spit. And that is without the distraction of talking to the multitudes who want to hear all about me-especially about how it is possible for my humans to survive in the middle of Manhattan with an extravagantly large creature such as myself who possesses a surfeit of “personality.”
Well this year in a break from tradition I will not be reprising my version of a “’Twas the Night before Christmas”—for those wishing to read or re-read it, please head over to the end of blog post #194. In addition to “’Twas the Night Before Christmas” this is a season that has also proved inspirational to composers, artists, writers and of course the folks in Hollywood. But if a Hound had been in charge of writing Christmas movies, things would have been very different:
All I Want for Christmas: instead of being a touching tale of how two children reunite their estranged parents it would be a more transactional tale of how two children reunite their estranged parents in exchange for FAO Schwarz and Petco credit cards with their names on them and for a Hound who really does want everything for Christmas. And New Year’s. And President’s Day…
Babes in Toyland: Instead of being about apprentice toymakers the film would be about apprentice Hound puppies left unattended for an afternoon.
Bad Santa: Instead of being about a con man planning to rob a store on Christmas it would be about a Hound in a Santa hat who sits in people’s laps and robs them of their time, possessions and bank accounts. But unlike con men, he doesn’t go to jail; he just goes to the sofa.
A Christmas Carol: When the ghost of Jacob Marley appears Hound Scrooge becomes intensely interested in seeing if he is edible; when the ghosts of
Christmas Past, Present and Future arrive the Hound pays no attention to what they are saying and just bays at them because he’s bored and they are not giving him anything to play with. He then eats the turkey that he was supposed to give to Tiny Tim.
Christmas in Connecticut (nb: this is Elizabeth’s favorite Christmas movie—something about having a similar level of domestic skills as the heroine):In the Hound-written version the domestically challenged woman who pretends to be like Martha Stewart for her housekeeping column and then must pretend to marry a wealthy and obnoxious architect so she can entertain a returning GI and her boss at Christmas in a Connecticut house, would convince the architect to hand over the deed to the house because she is so cute, then kick him out and, having stolen the GI from his fiancé, would spend Christmas in the kitchen with her Hungarian Uncle Felix eating Hungarian delicacies.
Elf: Instead of being about a human who thinks he is an elf and searches for his family in New York it would be about a human who thinks he is a Hound and applies Houndly principles to end up being the first head of Goldman Sachs that everyone loves in spite of the fact that he steals things and doesn’t care about them.
Holiday Inn: Instead of being about singer who turns an economically infeasible isolated farm into an even more economically infeasible isolated inn that is only open on holidays, he turns it into a holiday boarding kennel for Hounds whose New York City owners are so desperate to get rid of their Hounds over the holidays that they pay exorbitant fees.
Plus he discovers the Hounds are unexpectedly imbued with musical talents that inspire him to write and release America’s first multi-species single, “I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas That Stays White.”
How the Grinch Stole Christmas: Instead of being a fantasy about a Grinch who thinks he can steal Christmas by stealing the presents the Hound version is a more realistic film about a Grinch who knows he can steal Christmas by stealing the presents. In the end the Grinch is not sure what was more fun—the presents part or the stealing part. Consequently he has a wonderful Christmas whilst the residents of Whoville are forced to wait for the after Christmas sales.
I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus: Instead of being about a little boy who sees his mother kissing his father in a Santa suit and tries to be naughty to drive Santa away, the Hound version is about a little boy who sees his mother kissing Santa Claus and is excited about all the extra presents his mother’s activities are going to generate for him.
White Christmas: In the original version two old army buddies in the entertainment business conspire to help their former commanding officer save an old inn into which he has sunk his life savings. Along the way they fall for two sisters with ensuing romantic complications. In the Hound version, the old army buddies tear down the inn and build a strip mall which makes them all rich because of the big business it does at Christmas. The film ends with a touching scene of the three men and their 19 year old model girlfriends watching the snow fall over the strip mall. White Christmases are very good for business.
Miracle on 34th Street: Instead of being a heartwarming story about a delusional fellow who thinks he is Santa Claus and the little girl who believes him the Hound version is about a Hound who believes that he is well behaved and the delusional woman who believes in him.After a walk down 34th Street at Christmas time results in the Hound being hauled into court for spitting in public, disturbing the peace and stealing Christmas presents from people’s shopping bags the case is dismissed because no one will testify against him because he’s so cute. The Hound’s human prefers to believe that the case was dismissed because her Hound is so well behaved and buys him a stuffed pink pig to celebrate.
The Nutcracker: Instead of being about a little girl who dreams that her nutcracker has turned into a handsome prince who whisks her off to the Land of the Sweets presided over by the Sugar Plum Fairy the Hound version is about a little girl who dreams that her nutcracker has turned into a handsome Hound who whisks her off to the Land of The Organ Meats presided over by the Chicken Liver Fairy. She swoons after witnessing the magnificent Waltz of the Gizzards and wakes up in her bed covered in mysterious slimy goo.
It’s a Wonderful Life: In the original version, rather than getting on a train to see the world George Baily stays in Bedford Falls and repeatedly sacrifices his ambition for the sake of others. Big messes ensue. An angel tries to make him feel better by trying to convince him that he’s really had a wonderful life. In the Hound version, George Baily goes off to see the world and has a great time. And he doesn’t need an angel to convince him that he actually has had a wonderful life—the glass of Cristal he’s holding works just fine.
Well you get the idea. In other Christmas related activities, I dropped by the vet’s office sporting my red and green antlers to wish the staff, amongst whom I spend so much time and my humans so much money, a Merry Christmas. Christmas miracles do occur—no one stuck a finger up my bottom. I accepted a cookie from them to mark the occasion.
And this year we all have something special to celebrate around here—my human Maria is finally going back to work, at least temporarily, after a lengthy, economic-induced hiatus. This means that Elizabeth will once again be doing my midday walks and I will get to hang out in her apartment and disrupt her activities (well maybe not all of us are celebrating). And as an added bonus my puppy Pluto might come over from time to time to keep me company.
Of course between the stink and the drool he might need a bath before he goes home, but it’s a small price to pay for learning from the master about how to get what one wants in life-- although Pluto is quite precocious in that way. He looks a determined little chap, doesn’t he?
Anyway, we here in Wimsey World wish you all the best for the season’s holidays. I have already been given one of my gifts (the pink pig) and am awaiting the others. But one way or another Santa comes every day for me, just a bit more so at this time of year to make up for the hats.
Until next time,
Wimsey, keeping Santa in business one present at a time
2 comments:
Wimsey, Merry Christmas to you and to your people as well.
I have not received any gifts yet, but I am pretty sure there are a couple under the tree for me!
Bentley
We think you should do one of those salvation army buckets - just baying rather than bell ringing. Think how much money you could raise.
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