Newport This Week

Making Sense of Christmas 2020

SLICE OF LIFE


Happy Holidays

Happy Holidays

If 2020 has taught me anything, it’s that nothing makes sense. Rhode Islanders socially distance themselves from squirrels while walking to the mailbox, yet it was recently reported that we are the most infected place in the world. Apparently, we are right up there with Serbia and the Republic of Georgia.

How is that even possible? Most of us haven’t interacted with a single person outside of those we are legally bound to since March. Other states are allowing fans into stadiums, but we are ringing in the New Year with Serbia?

Therefore, in the spirit of the holidays and other perplexing circumstances, I’ve focused on seasonal endeavors that are close to home, and more accurately, close to my bathroom, because I unexplainably caught a nasty stomach bug.

Christmas music is the most expedient method to a festive mood. When I think of cozy Christmas nights, the velvet voices of Bing Crosby and Nat King Cole ooze comfort and family traditions.

Conversely, and despite their longtime popularity, the startling techno-synthesized sounds of Mannheim Steamroller and the Trans-Siberian Orchestra ooze Herbie Hancock in a Christmas themed fever dream. Black Sabbath and Judas Priest clearly had an early influence on the composers. Nothing says home for the holidays quite like Siberia or a giant truck that flattens road surfaces in Germany.

Columnist Amy Martin has a background in family chaos, laughter and a lot of laundry. reality and humor.

Columnist Amy Martin has a background in family chaos, laughter and a lot of laundry. reality and humor.

Christmas movies cover all the jingle genres: classic, comedy, action, romance. And for people like my father, who want to perpetually live in a world where career-obsessed women never stumble while running in heels after a widowed man driving a vintage truck, there are Hallmark Christmas movies.

Personally, I believe “The Godfather” is a holiday classic. After all, Michael Corleone is out Christmas shopping in New York with his girlfriend, who is wearing heels, when he is informed of the murder attempt on his father. Tom Hagen is also Christmas shopping amongst the city’s festive revelry when he is shoved into a vintage car at gunpoint. In true comparison, “The Godfather” is not that different than Hallmark Christmas flicks, minus the abductions, witness tampering, obstruction and assassination.

Thanks to the pandemic, the punches keep on coming. In a shocking twist to the uplifting vaccine news, Russia has instructed its citizens not to drink for two months after receiving the vaccine. Um, excuse me? This is like the French withholding cigarettes or the Greeks deprived of feta.

I don’t recall Pfizer, Moderna, AstraZeneca, Dr. Fauci, the CDC or the FDA mentioning this little vaccine caveat. Hopefully, this is just higher-level Russian propaganda. Otherwise, we are all about to face a real “Sophie’s Choice.”

The other big indulgence blow this holiday season is that the maker of Pepperidge Farm brand, Campbell’s Soup Company warned of a potential cookie shortage, specifically Milano and Chessman. This is due to an increase in demand and a shortage of labor as a result of the pandemic. Hold on. Have we really reached the point where our cookies are the next sacrificial lambs of the pandemic?

Call the National Guard, because Milano, not to mention our happy beverages, are the last line of defense against apocalyptic style behaviors. Take those shields away, and we’ll be living in a holiday-themed “Lord of the Flies,” left only with cockroaches and laundry.

Survival groups will fall into two categories: Hallmark and holiday gyro-synthesized enthusiasts, and Godfather/classic crooner aficionados. When a vaccine-induced prohibition is instated, I think we all know which group will be clutching the Christmas conch shell and which will be clutching a pair of broken heels.

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