The Night (of the living dead) Before Christmas

The below story is a Christmas gift from my little brother (Darrell Martinez) to me, my family and subsequently all of the folks that read this blog.

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'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through our apartment, not a creature was stirring, except our four cats.  I mean really, try and keep four cats from stirring -- it can't be done.  The stockings were out, hung from coat hangars on the kitchen door.  The Christmas lights were on, tangled and tied around the balcony... with care, and the tinkle-dribble sounds of two fish tanks hung in the air.  We slept quite soundly, long used to the noise, of those damn four cats and all of their toys. Anthony in his Snuggie® -- hogging the bed, and I in my Decepticon® PJs sleeping the sleep of the dead.

When all of a sudden I awoke to such racket, like a loud sawing-grinding-vibrating repeating grating... oh that was just Anthony snoring... nevermind, I went back to sleep.  But, I woke again to the shattering of glass,so I crawled out of bed to kick some cat-ass.  Out to the living room I stumbled in vain -- ready to bring down that mad Christmas kitty-pain.  But Oh! With my bleary half-shut eyes did I see, but Santa himself-as plain as can be.  He had come through the patio windows as we don't have a chimney.  He was all covered in mud and looking quite dingy.  His hat was all torn and he held in his hand, the leg of a reindeer that had been gnawed-on quite bad.

He smelled of a sewer that had puked up rancid meat and I hoped against hope that he couldn't hear my heartbeat.  "Murr-aah?"  He moaned, as he looked right at me.  "Fuck!"  I exclaimed as my shorts filled with pee.  Then, here he came running and the blood in me surged, I knew that this Christmas-hell-beast needed to be purged.  From my home, from this holiday, from this block at least - so I tackle-blocked his ass back down to the street!

Over the balcony he flew and fell with such a clatter, that the neghbors next door came out to see what's the matter!  Chang, Bang and Tian -- the Asians next door -- all fell to Santa's blood thirst in a scene of much gore!  Santa grabbed onto Chang -- grabbed him full in the face--and blood and hair flew all over the place.  Bang screamed out shrill and then tried to run, but Santa got to him quick -- the end to Bang-Sun!  Tian just stood there quite frozen in fear, and Santa smashed him hard with the bloody foot of his deer.  

Down went Tian and Santa did feast.  And I knew in my cockles I'd have to "sleigh" the beast.  So onto my laptop -- I flew with such speed, and posted to facebook my dire Christmas need.  Then into my closet--I rummaged for the sword, that had been won on Ebay--for a hefty reward.  Then out to the lot--I ran with much haste, for this crazed undead Santa I needed to waste.  People were running now, all this way n' that - and Chang, Bang & Tian were up from their nap.  Returned from the dead, though not quite entirely --They chewed on that annoying dog from the bitch in twenty-three.  I dispatched them most quickly--with a sword through the head.  "Must finish this fast and return to my bed!"  Santa had vanished, screams all around, so I followed the noise and guess what I found.  A bath most bloody-to my eyes did appear, of my neighbors all falling to brain-hungry reindeer.  

With a red suited fat-man running around quick, I knew in a moment -"His ass I must kick!"  Then he roared ugly, up to the sky, and 'round came his minions in the blink of an eye.  Half-eaten and bloodied I chopped them as they came.  As Santa shouted and groaned, I downed them by name. "Die Dasher!  Die Dancer!  Die Prancer and Vixen!  FALL COMET, FALL CUPIT, FALL DONDER AND BLITZEN!"  Slashed the tops of their heads, chopped at them all!  Slashed away!  Chopped away!  Diced away all!  

Then bloated but hungry, Santa came for me fast, it was finally time that I dispatched him at last. His eyes shined at me, crimson.  Oh yes, very scary.  His cheeks were all a'torn, his nose dripped of cherry.  His lips curled back to bare broken teeth, I drew up my sword and threw down the sheath.  I put my blade in his face and slashed at his belly.  his gut spills out thickly like a bag full of jelly.  He lunged at me sharply, his finger grazing my nose.  Then I gave him a nod and up my sword rose,  In a bright slash, in a grand swooping sweep- I took his head off cleanly and he fell in a heap.  With a twitch and a quiver he died once more, not knowing what nightmare he encountered before.

I kicked at the corpse of the old elf in red--making quite sure that the hell-beast was dead.  Then came the town clock - clanging out twelve, and I laughed when I heard it, in spite of myself.  So I turned 'round quickly and shouted out right - "MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD-FRIGHT!"

-- Darrell Martinez 2011

I want a GI Joe with the Kung-fu Grip

When I was a kid I remember having such definite dreams about Christmas gifts.  One year I was sure I wanted the GI Joe with the Kung-fu grip.  Not sure what the draw was for that man-doll back then. I just knew it would be cool to have one.  He had a tiny little fist that was separated in half at the palm and when you flipped the lever in his back down his hand would close into a magical kung-fu grip that could fuse carbon steel.  Well, I never really tested out the whole metal fusion thing, but I was convinced it could happen.

The cool thing about GI Joe toys was that there was no GI Joe cartoon back then, no GI Joe Movie, nothing.  GI Joe was an imaginary character that did not exist in reality or in TVLand or the Movies.  At the time, my favorite cousin in-law was actually enlisted in the Marine Corp and away from home serving in some place called Vietnam in a war that affected me very little at the time other than the absence of one of my favorite playmates.

Jodie looked a little like GI Joe.  So, it was easy to imagine that when we were fighting crime with GI Joe, Jodie was there taking out criminals left and right with his kung-fu grip.  When we were saving the damsel Naked-Barbie from Ken’s chronic domestic abuse, Jodie was there rescuing the poor girl and sweeping her into his arms after high-kicking Ken in his bronzed-tan face.  Of course it was only temporary, because Jodie was married to my favorite cousin Sandy, and Naked-Barbie was always convinced by Ken’s multiple apologies and bouquets of plastic flowers that life in the dream home with Ken was all she was good for.  For some reason Barbie never had clothes on in my house.  I think it was a bit of a trade-off we made.  See, I grew up with four brothers, no sisters.  So, it makes sense that Barbie would be naked, thus… Naked Barbie.

The year after that it was Stretch Armstrong.  Stretch was a rubber man that was filled with what had to be radioactive jelly.  As you tugged on his arms and legs they would stretch to the furthest extent of the rubber making him the amazing stretching man.  That is until Stretch developed ulcers in his armpits and the inguinal region of his crotch.  Not just ulcers, but bleeding ulcers.  That gooey clear jelly stuff would get on you and it was a little like getting rubber cement on you.  It did not come off easily, soap and water did not work to remove it.  It took days for that stickiness to go away.  Kids I knew back then that owned a Stretch Armstrong are now dead from cancer.  Just saying.

Life is easy when you know what you want for Christmas isn’t it?  The question is fairly benign, but if you think about it, when you know what you want for Christmas, you know a lot.  You probably know what it would take to make you happy, and that is more than most folks can say.  Sure, sure the obligatory response is, I just need my family and I will be happy, or I just want to be home with those I love and around my friends.  But, when we are honest, most of us have settled for realities that are far from what we REALLY want.  Isn’t that true? 

I mean do you really have the greatest job in the world?  Maybe you do, but most people, the lucky ones are somewhere between “well at least I have a job in this economy” and “I get paid and it’s not complete torture.” Many others hate their job.

Are you really with the person you want to be with for the rest of your life?  Is there really such a person?  Do you even like your kids?  Is there really just one thing that you could receive at Christmas that will make your life significantly better?  Is there?  Be honest.   Do we really even have something in our head when asked “what will make you truly happy?” 

Life was so simple when I was a kid.  That GI Joe, Stretch Armstrong, Huffy bike, roller skates – those things made my life wonderful as a kid.  They were all I needed to ensure happiness that year.  Maybe Christmas is about making our kids happy by getting them that one thing, but for adults it’s about learning to be happy without that one thing.  Maybe Christmas for adults is about longing, awaiting, expecting.  I mean, the thing about Christmas is this.  Jesus comes, but then he goes doesn’t he?  He goes in such a gruesome way.  Life is kind of like that.  The things we long for, the things we await, they do come eventually, but then they are only around for awhile and then poof – their gone. 

That is why we learn to appreciate what we have.  It’s not because we can’t go out there and get better.  It’s not because we are doomed to only have a little.  It’s because we know that everything is fleeting, everything temporary.  Even when we get exactly what we want, we almost always have to give it up.  On top of that, we almost always want more, don’t we?  More.

We learn to appreciate what we have because, what we have is just like all those other things.  It is just as temporary, just as fragile, yet just as good.  As we get older we learn that everything and everyone have a lot in common.  That toys break, that family is just that – family.  They are part of you.  Anything you don’t like about them is probably your fault, because they are really part of you and you of them.  That the perfect person we thought we wanted to be with proved to be crazy, sickly, or perfect for some other guy or gal.  That the job we thought we wanted, turned out to actually just be “work” in the end.

Maybe Christmas is about realizing that nothing is right, everything is wrong.  It’s about knowing though that things will be better one day.  It’s about longing, awaiting, expecting for that perfection.  It’s about Jesus, and other stuff.  I wish each of you a very Merry Christmas.  Love what you have – who you have, and if you find yourself longing for more, join the rest of us in that longing.  It’s called being a grown-up, welcome to it.

Maybe if Naked-Barbie caught on to this strange kind of Christmas Spirit, she would have left Ken eventually and gone to a shelter for women, taken him to court, divorced him and gotten the dream house, sold the house and went to college, and ultimately built a life for herself of “not enough” like the rest of us.