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Friday, December 26, 2008

Christmas' time


Last evening, it was Christmas' Eve, I was peeing the dog near home... well, folks: I consider myself a cynical kind of guy, better a reality-linked kind of guy... yes, of course I read Charles Dickens' "A Christmas Carol" and, nonetheless, Ebenezer Scrooge isn't a model for me... BUT, in the years I built up a sort of stress and dislikement vs. Christmas, Snowy, the lights, the gifts, the songs et al the paraphernalia involved... and I loved "100 reasons for hating Christmas" by Roland Topor... to my wife disagreement.
... I was peeing the dog, and... the fog in the old city, wet paves and curbs, the portici in dimmed light and - almost the only noise disturbing the stillness - some youngters in front of a pub screaming and laughing... the lazy walk with Chicco the dog snorting and puffing and sniffing like hundreds times before sort of anaesthetized me, when, suddenly, short after, I heard a song, an old italian Christmas Carol: "Tu scendi dalle Stelle"...
It was a quite far singing and I guessed it was the young people, couple of hundred meters from where I was... few seconds after, I wasn't prepared... it was like I was 6 or 7 years old for a LOOOONG moment... horses clogging, more and more near and near... I had a look out of the portici and...
... what I saw... fog, and lights and two white horses, clopping and clogging toward me, in the desert narrow street... and the song was louder, now...
For a long moment I looked to Santa driving a chariot with two white horses and music and lights and a red light on His red cap... AND he saw me and said hello with His hand, long beard and all...
Chicco feared about the horses, so I - sort of - woke up, and returned in my foolish, anti-Christmas' mood...
... but something was happened... yes... probably it was an "Hire Santa" kind-of service for rich children or the like... strangely, it was about 12 P.M., anyway
;-))).
... but, for me, it was a childhood trip: when the gift wasn't so important, but the wait for the gift, being still virgin to the world, when mom and dad and grandma were Santa, as me and my little friends knew, BUT I wasn't so sure as Christmas Day neared, 'cause I always saw "strange" movements and shadows and whisperings in the long, sweet, Christmas'Eve night...
My wife, when I was back home with Chicco asked to me if it was all OK?!?
Yes, it was... it still is... maybe.
A moral: who care if Santa was a by-product of Coca Cola Inc... people, ME, we all need pureness, surprise, dreaming, can't be all what's coming from TV... and I cherish this little Dickens'-like experience of mine...

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