Christmas Message, 2008

 

 

 

 

 

 

I read recently with some sadness about how a fellow blogger friend of mine had gotten his family Christmas Tree "from a lot" and I nearly wept, such was my trepidation for the future of the Nation.  This is decidedly not how one is supposed to go about obtaining the family tree.  One must, and I cannot stress this enough, venture forth into the Wilderness, just as Chevy Chase did in the epic Christmas Vacation, and battle the elements and, indeed, Nature herself in order to obtain the prize. 

This is how we do it and, therefore, this is how it must be done.  Enclosed please find pictures of this year's hunt for the Kincaide Family Christmas Tree.  The site is a Christmas Tree preserve located about an hour and a half north of Detroit, deep in God's Country.  Lot, indeed.

Above, please note that the quarry has been pinned down by my wife Jeannie and my daughter Laura.  Moments later comes "The Moment of Truth":

Note the look of satisfaction on the face of the young huntress after she has made her kill!  And now, a trophy shot:

 

 

 

So, there you have it.  The game has been dressed, not field-dressed, more like Living Room dressed, and is now on display in our home.  A local beastie has been employed to guard the prize:

As a finishing touch, we have surrounded the tree with an entire village, the residents of which spend most of their time looking up with wonder and awe at the tree which towers over them:

Such is our life on Christmas Eve, 2008.  I wanted to take a moment to thank so many of you for enriching my life in the past year.  I lift a glass o' Nog to you David von Ebers, and to you Democommie, and to you General, sir, and to Jay and Dave and Nomi and all the rest.  Merry Christmas friends!

Road Trip!

I know most of you don't have time to scroll through yet another Wonkette post as the Big Three CEOs today take another field trip to DC (driving there in cars built by the companies they head instead of flying there in corporate jets this time) to ask, hats in hand, for 25, uh, 34 billion in loans to save their asses and the three million or so jobs which depend on those asses.  So I've done it for you.  The highlights so far:

OK, so who’s going to be the brave filmmaker who turns this into a road movie? I imagine scenes in which:

• They hit the Bunny Ranch
• They get lost in the “wrong part of town” and lose their hubcaps
• Their car breaks down in the middle of nowhere and Alan Mullaly has to change the fan belt
• They  pick up a hitch-hiker who may or may not be a serial killer
• They fight over what radio station to listen to
• Rick Wagoner ties Robert Nardelli’s shoes together while he’s sleeping
• They dig up an old bottle of “Dom Perignon” they buried in Death Valley 10 years earlier
• They go skinny dipping just outside Oram, Utah and someone steals their clothes
• They finally arrive in D.C. with a completely changed outlook on life

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“Yes, Congressman, we feel we have comprehensive plan to make the most of the $34 billion we’re requesting.”
“Uh, Mr. Waggoner, wasn’t it $25 billion?”
“Two weeks ago, it was. But after we put our heads together and came up with an actual plan, we found that the figure was more like $42 billion.”
“Wait — you just — ”
“And with this $47 billion, we think we can get on a sound footing — for the next three or four months, at least.”

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Is this a milestone when the CEOs all rode in one of their products? There was a deeply transformative moment when Wagoner started sniffing the air and said, “Is this what they all smell like?” Nardelli got carsick and Mulally was just annoying the whole time, reading out the signs of failing businesses along the highway as they drove...