An Old-Fashioned Christmas
Read An Old-Fashioned Christmas Online
Authors: Patrick Regan
An Old-Fashioned Christmas
Copyright © 2008 by Patrick Regan. All rights reserved. Printed in Singapore. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of reprints in the context of reviews. For information, write Andrews McMeel Publishing, LLC, an Andrews McMeel Universal company, 1130 Walnut Street, Kansas City, Missouri 64106.
E-ISBN:978-0-7407-9856-6
Library of Congress Control Number: 2008921096
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Front cover photo © Bettmann/Corbis
Jacket design by Ren-Whei Harn
ntroduction
R
emember Christmas? Old honest-to-goodness, chestnuts-roasting, sugarplums-dancing, round-yon-virgin Christmas? Remember when the glorious strains of
Adeste Fideles
came courtesy of a group of ruddy-cheeked carolers at your door and not from a ringtone somewhere deep in the inflatable front yard snowglobe aisle at Wal-Mart?
Sad to say, those days have melted away like a snowflake on a hobo’s eyelash.
*
Blight took the last chestnut tree years ago, dancing confections have been outlawed in every state but Nevada, and, well, we all know there’s no such thing as a virgin anymore.
Thank goodness, then, that we still have photos of those halcyon days of Christmas. From brittle, old snapshots, honest faces look back at us through the decades; they are strangers, but we know them still. Perhaps they remind us of ourselves. Perhaps we drink a little too much.
The point is, we could all use a little reminder of what Christmas is really about: hobos, orphans, boozed-up Santas, pill-popping housewives, and the shattered dreams of adorable children. It’s Christmas again—just like you remember it.
*
A flaming hobo
J
ust remember, sweetie, if I see another cookbook under this tree on Christmas morning, the next balls to get hung around here will be yours.
O
kay, kid. Gotta put it all back now. That was just a market research test to find out what poor, four-year-old orphans would want for Christmas.
N
obody had to tell Leonard to keep the Yuletide gay.
H
obo Santa couldn’t even fool the “special needs” toddlers.
I
t was another perfect Christmas. Thanks to mommy’s happy pills.
