American Chimpanzee

  "Where ya going, Streit? It's Christmas! Don't tell me you'll be spending it fishing? You can do that any ol' day of the year. You should be in church, my friend." "Bah! Halibut!" Streit answered. "Fishing  is  my church," and he went on his way, the whole exchange reminding him of a similar conversation he had decades earlier when he was but a wee laddie. The widow Kravitz, busybody that she was, had spied him walking jauntily one Sunday with a fishing rod in one hand and a jar of tadpoles in the other. "Streit!" she chastised. "Don't you know better than to go fishing on the Lord's day?" "I'm not going fishing," he answered back politely. "I'm going home." Meanwhile, when the grown Streit got to his favorite fishing spot, he was shocked to find his uncle there waiting for him. Because his uncle had died YEARS  ago! "Uncle Jack!" Streit cried out happily. "What are  y...

The last Saturday before Christmas was busy. By the time I got home it was dark. My wife was already in bed watching something on her tablet. I'd tell you what, but I've forgotten. That's nothing unusual. I can forget any number between one and ten just by counting scoops of coffee into my coffee maker. My wife, on the other hand, says I don't listen to her, or some such nonsense. My two daughters were getting ready to go out and my granddaughter was by herself watching  Home Alone  in the living room. On the TV screen, a young girl was busy miscounting the children. Personally, I've never cared for  Home Alone . With the exception of John Candy, there's not one likable person in it. Sure, little Kevin is cute, but do you really like him? In a reflective moment inside a church, even  he  admits he's a bit of a turd. I wanted to get on my laptop (to write this very column, in fact) but seeing my granddaughter by herself tugged at my heart a bit, so I joined h...

(Once upon a time after the election...) Somewhere... in the cosmos... "You sent for me, sir? "Yes, Clarence. A man down on Earth needs our help." "Splendid! Maybe then, sir, maybe then I'll get my wings?" It was Christmas Eve and President Biden was sitting in the Oval Office brooding. Come the new year, he would be out and a new president would be sworn in, but there was so much left to do. So much left to do. Like every president who served before him, he worried about his legacy these last few days in public office. Was he too hard on Israel? Too easy on radical Islam? Should he have secured the border and fixed the ailing economy? Was it wise to bring potential terrorists possibly disguised as political refugees into the country? Could he have done more to ease race relations? Well, it was too late now. History would judge him by the results of his efforts, not by the nobility of his intentions. "Oh, my," a voice said. "Aren't  we  a...

 Once upon a time before the election... Hillary Clinton sat alone in her study contemplating the upcoming 2024 presidential election. Biden had a successful four years, she thought, but surely he realized it was not in the best interest of the Democratic Party for him to run for a second term, and if he didn't run that created an opportunity. The opportunity to run again. That would be good for her, but, more importantly, that would be good for America. "God bless us every one," she said out loud, liking the idea of it. Oh, sure, by the look of things she might end up running against Trump again, but she liked the idea of that, too. Fate seemed to be offering her a second chance to prove what she had known all these years, that she had been cheated in 2016. The doors to her study burst open and there stood a ghostly Bill Clinton, chains attached to his wrists and ankles, a thick metal collar padlocked around his neck. A fifth chain hung loosely from the back of the colla...

"Merry Christmas!" I tell Christian, handing him my tiny gift. "Why, Ana," he says, honestly surprised. "I already told you, this wasn't necessary. With you in my life, I already have everything I want." "I know you told me not to, but I couldn't resist." Peeling off the wrapping paper as easily as my panties the night before, he opened the box. "A diamond tie pin!" he exclaimed happily, immediately putting it to use securing his tie. Why he chooses to wear a tie with his pajamas is a fashion statement I'll never understand. "I love it, Ana." "That means a lot to me, Christian." "How could you afford something so extravagant?" "You know my Volkswagen Beetle, the one I love so much I swore I'd never get rid of it?" "Yes." "I got rid of it." "But you LOVED that car, Ana. In fact, when I tried to get rid of it, you made me give it back." "I love you ...

Bob Cratchit got up from his desk as Ebenezer Scrooge hunched over his account books. "Sir?" he said, tapping on the old man's door. "I've copied all the letters and filed the paperwork. I also brought in more firewood and swept out the ashes." Here, Bob Cratchit paused, and then began again. "And, well, it's closing time, Mr. Scrooge." "Fine," Scrooge replied. "If your work is finished, you may leave." "Mr. Scrooge?" Cratchit proceeded cautiously. "Tomorrow is Christmas, a day to spend with family." "Christmas? Bah!" Scrooge all but spat. "Fine. Take tomorrow off, but be here early the next day." "Yes, sir," Cratchit acquiesced. "You can count on it, sir." Cratchit pulled his coat snug around him. "Merry Christmas, Mr. Scrooge," he said, and then stood there. Waiting. "Well?" Scrooge said, getting up from his desk. "I just thought…" ...