Whoever did the rain dance, the next time you might think about dialing up a waltz instead of a jitterbug, Chief.
It seemed like the last time we had rain, there was a Republican in the White House.
Getting my 16-year-old son ready for his driving test, there was a requirement for him to get some behind-the-wheel experience motoring in the rain. We were having a tough time checking that one off the box until this week.
I’m not so sure that taking him to a self-serve car wash and turning the dial up to a 10 really counted. It would have been difficult to pass the red-faced test on that one.
It seemed as if God had heard enough about the drought and said: “You want rain? I’ll show you some rain. Just ask Noah. I’m pretty good at this sort of thing. And while I’m at it, let’s throw a few tornadoes into the mix.”
When we get weather like that, my wish is that someone gets up a petition to bring retired meteorologist Ken Cook back into the studio.
Ken’s mere removal of his coat and him rolling up his shirtsleeves let us know that things were getting serious.
No offense to the current crop of TV weather guys, but I miss Ken.
In fact, that’s one of the things going on my Christmas list: A Ken Cook cameo when the weather is frightening.
Give a listen, Santa. I’m going to ask for a few more things here:
• With you being a jolly, red-faced soul, maybe you could provide some guidance on how to deal with panhandlers whose numbers are seemingly increasing every time I try to do my part and stimulate the local economy.
I’m not bashing those who are truly in need. The giving trees at our church get picked clean as soon as the gift requests are hung.
No, I’m talking about the flim-flammers who hit us up for money, then drive off in a car they claimed not to have a few moments earlier.
It’s an exercise in restraint not to say something, especially when you really want to believe in how good people can be.
• This is really the only material item on the list. These squirrels can never be mistaken for your reindeer. They have no business up on the housetop.
I once heard a squirrel being called “a rat with a good PR man.” That fits. I’m with Sam and Chester, the two apparently pacifist Golden Retrievers who let me live in my house. We’re all too old and tired to chase the furry varmints.
Bill Murray was on to something with all that gopher-destroying plastique in “Caddyshack.” But that’s much too complicated.
What I’d like is a BB gun that will give me a fighting chance. Being an animal lover, my plan is to teach Sam and Chester how to shoot.
• Put me down to help you on this one, Santa: Already the sordid tales of twisted opportunists who use the Christmas season to be the yin for the UPS drivers’ yang.
Of course I’m referring to those that will do their Christmas shopping on someone else’s front porch. I would love to be a fly on the wall when these crooks have a strategy session.
“What do you want for Christmas, Clyde?” Bonnie might say.
“Oh, I don’t know. I’ll take whatever you get me from 1315 Elm, 417 Maple and 8309 Fillmore,” Clyde would say.
Sad to say, Santa, but there are those that steal Christmas presents and I’m fairly sure that’s not what this season is all about.
Instead of lumps of coal, anyway you go give the thieves a change of heart? If that won’t work, how about a relocation plan.
We don’t want them here.
• I know this is your crunch time, Santa. It’s like April for an accountant, so I really hate to ask. But if it’s at all possible, please do your part in helping people who have given up know that it’s going to be OK. Help those who are down in the dumps or on their luck that somewhere in the recesses of their minds, there’s a Merry Christmas moment in there.
No more “Happy Holidays” here. You see me, you’re getting a “Merry Christmas” for at least four more weeks.
Things are looking up here. Why, there’s a pretty good chance that even Oreo’s are going to be made in the USA again.
I’m glad you’re back again this year. Neither of us is getting any younger and I’m worried that you’re working too hard. It seems like you are kick-starting the Christmas season before Halloween.
Next year, stay away until December.
Bigger isn’t always better.
Mike Tasos’ column is published every other Sunday. So far, he has made good on his vow not to visit a mall this Christmas season. Comments can be sent to firstname.lastname@example.org.