April 26: Scrooge's Nephew, Good-Humour, Book Club

If you should happen, by any unlikely chance, to know a man more blest in a laugh than Scrooge's nephew, all I can say is, I should like to know him too.  Introduce him to me, and I'll cultivate his acquaintance.

It is a fair, even-handed, noble adjustment of things, that while there is infection in disease and sorrow, there is nothing in the world so irresistibly contagious as laughter and good-humour.  When Scrooge's nephew laughed in this way:  holding his sides, rolling his head, and twisting his face into the most extravagant contortions:  Scrooge's niece, by marriage, laughed as heartily as he.  And their assembled friends being not a bit behindhand, roared out, lustily.

If you have been reading my year-long foray into A Christmas Carol regularly, you already know of my affection for Scrooge's nephew, Fred.  You know that I appreciate Fred's ability to put his uncle's misanthropy into perspective.  Fred is one of the few characters in the entire book who can get the better of Scrooge in speech and action.  And he does it with laughter and "good-humour."  Fred is just a great guy.  The life of the party.  He's the one person everyone looks forward to seeing, all the time.

Tonight is the monthly meeting of my book club.  At 7 p.m., my friends and relatives will descend upon my abode to eat and drink and talk about this month's read.  It's always a good time, and while I don't think I'm quite as genial a host as Fred, I do enjoy laughing and eating with people I love.  Throw a good book on top of all that, and there's nothing better.

This month's book was a collection of poetry (in honor of National Poetry Month).  We read Still Life in Milford by Thomas Lynch.  I saw Mr. Lynch read at the university about twelve years ago.  He was engaging and funny.  He writes my kind of poetry--full of image and narrative.  None of this language crap that's so much in vogue these days. 

Lynch also wrote one of my favorite books of non-fiction called The Undertaking.  It's a collection of essays about his life-s profession.  Thomas Lynch is, by trade, an undertaker.  Still is.  So there are many reasons why I like the man.  He doesn't live in the ivory tower of academia.  He's in the middle of life's messes, comforting the bereaved, making grief natural and, at times, beautiful.

It should be a really good night.  I'm feeling slightly better.  The food's going to be delicious.  The company's going to be lovely.  And the book's going to be great to discuss.

Saint Marty may not be Scrooge's nephew, Fred, but he knows how to show people a good time.



He looks like an undertaker, doesn't he?



February 5: Good-Humour, Super Bowl, New Cartoon

It is a fair, even-handed, noble adjustment of things, that while there is infection in disease and sorrow, there is nothing in the world so irresistibly contagious as laughter and good-humour.  When Scrooge's nephew laughed in this way:  holding his sides, rolling his head, and twisting his face into the most extravagant contortions:  Scrooge's niece, by marriage, laughed as heartily as he.  And their assembled friends being not a bit behindhand, roared out, lustily.

Fred, Scrooge's nephew, is one of my favorite characters in A Christmas Carol.  I love him because he knows how to throw a good party.  His friends seem good-natured, and Fred's wife--while a little bit of a drip--doesn't hold her husband back.  Fred knows how to make people laugh and have a good time.

My wife and I used to have get-togethers with friends all the time.  Any occasion was an excuse to have a party.  Oscars.  Emmy Awards.  Tony Awards.  SAG Awards.  Golden Globes.  Olympic Opening/Closing Ceremonies.  New Year's Eve.  Ground Hog Day.  Pulitzer Prize Announcements.  Yom Kippur.  Whatever.  Any reason to have a party.  I even had people over for the Super Bowl, and I don't give a rat's ass about football.  (Really, the Super Bowl is all about the commercials, half-time show, and food.)  We always had a really good time, no matter what event we were celebrating. 

In some ways, I think Scrooge's nephew and I have a lot in common.  Fred doesn't give a crap what his friends and wife are laughing at, as long as they're laughing.  He just wants to have a good time.

Kids kind of put in crimp in a person's lifestyle.  And some of our friends have moved away.  Some have had children of their own.  Some work midnight shifts.  I still get together with family for the Academy Awards.  We still have a New Year's Eve party (although we don't stay up quite as late as we used to).  However, the Golden Globes, the SAGs, the Grammys are pretty much a quiet, stay-at-home kind of affair.  My daughter, who's eleven, is old enough to join in the fun now.  In the last few weekends, we've watched quite a few awards shows together.  But, it's not the same.

Tonight is the Super Bowl.  Americans across the country will be consuming Doritos, hot dogs, jalapeno poppers, pizzas, and thousands of gallons of chili.  At our house, we'll be watching the commercials.  We'll be eating Scoop Fritos and cheese.  We'll be waiting for Madonna to start gyrating.  We won't be watching any football.  While the game is on, I'll be reading Ovid's Metamorphoses and playing Words With Friends.  I'll probably fall asleep by ten o'clock.

Saint Marty isn't quite the party animal he used to be.

Confessions of Saint Marty