It's 4:45 AM, and I'm fighting another attack of insomnia. This one woke me up at about 1:15 AM. I tried to watch TV, and then to drink orange juice, and finally, I wound up browsing Craigslist out of curiosity.
There are dozens of ads for really good-looking stuff:
I was struck by the cornucopia, and puzzled at people trying to sell things the day before Christmas. That didn't seem like a very good time to me, what with everyone going out and spending money on toys and ... Oh.
It's creepy, when the talk turns to such a hard reality. The political talk and bluster is, suddenly, very real. There are people out there selling TV sets to get money to buy toys for their kids.
I wish I had just won the lottery or inherited a million dollars, so I could just show up and hand them each a couple of hundred and say "Merry Christmas." I am, however, like so many others, intent of planning to keep what little I have while I contemplate retirement.
Suddenly, I'm sad; Tiny Tim may have been a fictional character, but there is no ghost coming to convince the Scrooges now pulling the strings of the U.S. Congress that they must amend their ways or die unloved and unknown. Those are tales for the lower classes, and I'm not there yet.