Drunken Santas

A couple of weekends back we flew up to NYC to get in the Christmas spirit, as we try to do most years. It just seems that the BIg Apple really knows how to celebrate, and this year was no exception, as we readily found out. We were staying at the Grand Hyatt, which is physically adjoined to Grand Central Station. The Hyatt lives up to its Grand prefix as it has over 1300 rooms and the whole nine yards, including a marble pool in the upper lobby that cascades down to the 1st floor street entry. Room service offered bottles of Makers Mark delivered to your room for $150(tip not included). I also noticed that two eggs of any style could be yours for $22. Those must have been special eggs.We didn't avail ourselves of room service. Upon checking in we went over to Grand Central Station to buy Metro Passes and were immediately assailed by hordes of young men and women in their early to mid twenties dressed like Santa Claus. The main common denominator was that they generally were all drunk and celebrating Christmas by screaming, yelling, and singing Christmas songs. Some of the girls appeared to be Santa's helpers, were equally drunk, and dressed provacatively in short, short skirts and candy cane striped stockings. I have found that this tradition started in 1998 and is called"Santa Con" for Santa Convention, or Drunken Santas, which is probably more appropriate. A lot of the participants are young professionals just taking the holiday as a license for having a good time. They were all over the city in their dirty red Claus costumes drunkenly hugging the women and shouting Merry Christmas. The NYC police were out in record numbers because of some vague threat to the subways , and generally tried to ignore the antics.We went to see Spamalot and Gay Clay really did a good job in his role as Sir Robin, and not as Lancelot as I previously thought. I paid $10 for a bagel at a nice restaurant across from our hotel, and was more than compensated by the long legs of our hostess as she seated the party. Never mind the fact that she was at least 38-40 years younger than me.Where has the time gone?Sandy and I celebrated our 35th anniversary and ate at the New York Luncheonette on East 50th Street which we have done for years. We went down to SoHo and looked around awhile at the Iron faced buildings and then went to Macy's . There was no Miracle on 34th street this year and I guess the Santas were sleeping off their drunken excessive behavior of the day before.Dave had an inebriated street person vomit a couple of times on his shoes while riding the crowded subway, and that seemed to deter him from any more trips on the subway. I think he rode in cabs the rest of the weekend. Better on Dave than me.The following week after NYC I was coming home from Virginia and stopped at where else to get a coke in Barbourville, and was waited upon by this discheveled waitress wearing this green Christmas shirt that proclaimed"If you're naughty I won't tell Santa".As she handed me my change I pointed to her shirt and said ,"I'm your man". She looked over my shoulder and said"Next." So much for charisma.Later on I was going through Corbin and there was a Santa waving from in front of a fast food chicken joint , his red suit only out done by gleaming new bluish, purple Nikes.Later on I saw another Santa in Danville sneaking a smoke standing in some brown weeds by the side of some ragged looking business.The final chapter came when I was bored and reading the local paper's annual edition that prints"Letters To Santa" in a little magazine. Every child wanted Iphones, Idogs(what ever that is), some kind of Wiis, and hand games. Nobody seems to have informed the youth of our country that there is a recession steaming full speed ahead to a depression. Santa is going to have to stop in China to get all the kids their electronic junk. One little girl in about the third grade also wanted a pet snake. A pet snake?? What an oxymoron!Can you imagine that snake getting loose in Santa's sleigh somewhere over the North Atlantic?? Maybe that is why we have drunken Santas. I must admit that one of my favorite moments of the weekend was when that dumbass Iraqi reporter threw his shoes at George W. during the press conference.That look on Bush's face cracked me up . What kind of man throws shoes at another man?? I really think George W. thought it was funny. Bush ducked those shoes pretty handily. That's probably out of practice from going hunting with Dick Chaney. You're still the man George. You're going home to Texas. Where is Saddam and his two thug sons? Chemical Ali?? Terac Azziz? Mission Accomplished.I'm having trouble spelling those Iraqi names as somehow the concept eludes me.Saddam ended up in a Spider Hole with only a couple pairs of white BVDs in his possession.After NYC I don't think I have BVDs. Milk and cookies to all. Merry Christmas to all and God Bless the USA !!