Getting Over The Holiday Blues

Just too sad… I would like to know why anyone thinks it’s a good idea to create a really sad song, slap the word Christmas on it and unleash the song on millions of unsuspecting listeners. By far the most egregious violator is “Christmas Shoes.” Recorded in 2000 by the Christian vocal group NewSong, the song tells the story of a poor boy who wants to buy shoes for his dying mother, wanting her to look beautiful in case “she meets Jesus tonight.” I had avoided it all month until this weekend, when I caught it twice in one evening. This may be the saddest song ever recorded, and it routinely brings me to the point of tears. If you caught it on the radio like me, I’ll wager you welled up a bit too. And if by some holiday miracle this little diddy has never graced your ears, thank your lucky stars.

Also not very Christmas-y… Just in case you’ve been under a rock, in the middle of an ocean and on another planet, the news of a NYPD officer being shot and killed is hardly new news. But what makes the whole situation an even bigger tearjerker is how Officer Peter Figoski was fatally shot on Dec. 12 – less than two weeks before the winter holidays, and his funeral was held on Dec. 19 – just six days before Christmas. One of our reporters told me how thousands upon thousands of police officers, firefighters and others came to mourn and pay their respects. But the creep who allegedly shot Officer Figoski didn’t just take a father from four girls, he also permanently scarred the holiday season for them. I can’t imagine how they’ll ever see this time of year as a happy, joyous season again.

Lay off the fruitcake already… And now, segueing to a slightly cheerier topic – fruitcake. What’s the deal with that? People have been dogging on the stuff for decades. It tastes no good; fruitcake, Cher and cockroaches can survive the nuclear apocalypse; you can build a bomb shelter out of the stuff to survive said apocalypse, yadda yadda yadda. There’s probably as many fruitcake jokes as there are ways to make it. Which brings me to my point: do you serve fruitcake as part of your Yuletide spread? If you do, tell me all about it. How long have you been serving it? Do you make it or buy it? And if you’re making it, tell me your special recipe that makes it extra-tasty. Help me rehabilitate fruitcake’s image – I’m counting on you guys! Shoot me a letter or an email with your observations.

Shutterbugs, take note… If you’re crafty with a camera, it might win you some extra kudos from your local government. Here are two opportunities for recognition: First, if you’re a Lloyd Harbor native, Village Hall is updating their website, and they need historic and present-day pictures of the village. Either mail your pictures to Village Hall, with your name and address on the back so it can be returned to you, or just email ‘em to lhvh@lloydharbor.org. And for more seasonal affairs, the Town of Huntington is looking for great pictures of your indoor and outdoor holiday decorations. Selected photos will run on the town’s government access network for the rest of the holiday season in a rotating montage. If you’ve got a good one, email lruvolo@huntingtonny.gov; put “Huntington Holiday Decoration Search” in the subject line and include your phone number in the email so Town Hall can get on the horn with you if they need to. Good luck!

And until next we meet again… I want to thank you all for your support of our family of newspapers in 2011! Please accept my best wishes for a very happy, healthy holiday season filled with love and joy as you’re surrounded by your loved ones, warming yourselves by the hearth as you sip egg nog and regale in great memories. Oh, and please enjoy a holiday without Christmas Eve scrambling, malfunctioning appliances, ugly holiday sweaters under the tree and awkward conversation with your in-laws. Oh, and battery shortages, especially for young gift recipients. Always stock up on batteries before the big day! If it does, however, all go to pot on December the 25th, don’t worry – there’s always leftovers to look forward to. Unless, of course, the stove bombs out.