It’s not Christmas without unicorns
My Fellow Inebriates,
I am giddy with excitement right now because—for perhaps the first time ever—I desperately want something that has nothing to do with alcohol.
I know it seems implausible. The quest for liquor completely dominates this bear for the most part, but every once in a while something cuts through the alcoholic miasma—something so sublimely beautiful that it gives me back my perspective.
Let me back up. I haven’t been feeling very festive. We put up the Christmas tree yesterday (three parts, stackable, lights included, plug-in-and-presto, instant Xmas), and—sigh—the middle part didn’t light up. The lights are in series, so when one goes kaput, the rest fail to light up, and no one felt like going through them all one by one to find the culprit.
My Christmas spirit was in the toilet.
So I started thinking about ways to cheer up. My alcohol inventory was just about exhausted (Santa??), and with the Backyardigans blaring all over the house, holiday music would have been a cacophonous choice. I decided to look for a nice Christmas picture, something serene and lovely.
As I surfed the web, I was thinking about red wine. Whenever I think about Christian holidays I think about wine, because Jesus made wine and also drank it. But I was thinking especially about malbec and ruminating that Jesus had missed out on malbec because I don’t think that varietal was available in his ‘hood. I don’t know if he knew about Argentina. I mean, he knew everything, so I guess he must have known about Argentina, but maybe he never really thought about it—who knows?
I’d never noticed art before. But this—this was transcendent. This awakened my emotions and enlivened my alcohol-deadened senses. I felt, truly, that by gazing on this beautiful painting, perhaps I could find proper happiness—the kind of joy you get from contemplating beautiful things, and not the temporary anaesthetic of a gin bottle.
And then it struck me: the painting was for sale on ebay.
I told my mum I had found something beautiful. She gave me this weird look 😐
I told her it was a painting and asked if we could bid on it. She said 😯 She said we needed to save money for the holidays so the kids can have gifts and we can have a turkey and maybe some wine, and was that last thing not one of our shared priorities?
I said yes, yes, but look. My mum was busy doing something, so she didn’t look at the painting.
ARE YOU F#CKING KIDDING ME? 🙄
I was bereft. She kept on sorting laundry.
And I started to cry. 😥
And then she must have caught a wisp of holiday spirit, because she put down the skid-marked Disney Princess underwear she was holding and went to look at the painting.
And she agreed with me. We must have it.
I almost hesitate to tell you guys about it because we did it—we got ourselves an ebay account (it was easy!) and now we’re in a bidding war. And I’m so scared that somebody with more money might wrest it away from us. I hope that doesn’t happen, but I’d understand, because I can’t imagine anyone not coveting the painting.