Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer

Monday, Monday . . . so @#$ for me”

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Apple store . . . the 5th of December . . .

My iPhone took a dive yesterday afternoon. Not a ‘fall-off-the-table=decent” but a full-fledged leap into the afterlife. The earliest appointment I could get with Apple was 2 pm on Thursday.

Not soon enough. My being is enclosed in a slim black flat cylinder, subject to death by height.

Also, the Garage Door is hanging at half-staff.

More later.

Rudy | Secret Recipe

Author’s note. Rudy | The Unofficial Novella is comprised of notes found stuffed in a stainless steel shoe box that floated up from what used to be frozen tundra. There will be 25 posts containing random insights into the seasonal saga. They are not in order, but will be when pigs fly. This is #25. The Buck stopped yesterday.  Rudy carries on.

Christmas Breakfast idea from Rudy’s North Pole Cook Book.

Enjoy your day.

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Rudy | The Bucks Stop Here

Author’s note. Rudy | The Unofficial Novella is comprised of notes found stuffed in a stainless steel shoe box that floated up from what used to be frozen tundra. There will be 25 posts containing random insights into the seasonal saga. They are not in order, but will be when pigs fly. This is #24. It is Christmas Eve, the night of magic and hope.

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The refrain circles in his head, an endless loop of melody sung in liquid soprano tones. His antlers serve as radio transmission towers. The tundra shakes and sways to the beat.

 

“Deer flying high and crimson sleighs on the wing
Snow banks and snowmen, a chorus that sings
Wide chimneys of bricks and sacks full of bling
These are a few of my favorite things.”

 

Time to fly. Rudy looks up. The sky is filled with a million stars. The full moon looks like the backlit clock tower in a Disney movie. The glow flickers. A cloud? A wisp of smoke from Santa’s chimney?

 

No. A flock of Amazon drones heading south, like geese in reverse migration.

 

Rudy paws the ground with his freshly polished hoof. Dasher and Dancer call out the words as they appear, like those of fumes from a solitary Piper Cub trailing an advertisement for suntan lotion across the sky on the fourth of July.

 

“The. Bucks. Stop. Here?”

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Rudy | Avoiding Evil

Rudy is too busy to breathe today.

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As if climate change [for the worse] weren’t enough, this message just appeared in Rudy’s email:

“Governors of these states have announced that no refugees will be allowed to enter to seek refuge from terrorists . . . “

Trying to determine how to get around this travesty, will take most of his day. No time to greet followers.

Sorry, children of the Red, Grey and Yellow.

Rudy | “Awe-pricot” vs. “Ape-reecot”

Author’s note. Rudy | The Unofficial Novella is comprised of notes found stuffed in a stainless steel shoe box that floated up from what used to be frozen tundra. There will be 25 posts containing random insights into the seasonal saga. They are not in order, but will be when pigs fly. This is #22.

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The captain of the team reviews the Official Weather Report 72 hours before the North Pole ETD. This morning, Rudy ordered pontoons for the sleigh.

“Prepping for that El Niño. I’m impressed with your foresight,” Santa said.

Mrs. Claus jumped in. “It’s the rain, dear.”

“Sorry. There’s more to it. Our home is melting. We won’t be able to sled out of the barn in a few years.”

“But what about the rain, dear?” Mrs. Claus recapped.

“It’s snow big deal.” Santa snapped back.

“Exactly.” Three days before Christmas Eve, fumes from the last-minute rush of freshly painted nutcrackers would overcome Santa. Mrs. Claus, intoxicated from the brandied apricots concocted by the Elves, would pass out by 16:00 hours.

“So much for Global Warning.”

Image: http://altonbrown.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/06/alton-brown-apricot-brandy.jpg

 

 

 

 

Rudy | The Darkness Before Dawn

Right now, Rudy is preparing to be plunged into 24 hours of darkness.

Winter wields a double-edged sword. Today, the day will give up its light earlier than any other day of the year. The night will be long enough to unleash tales of long-ago heroism and valor.

And, for one instant, noon and midnight will intersect. The sun will turn from the Northern Hemisphere and without fanfare, the days will begin to stretch, longing for summer’s lingering lights.

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Join Rudy and the team as they pause to welcome the spirits at 8:48 pm in the Pacific Time Zone. White robes optional.

Rudy | The Day After . . . The Office Party

Author’s note. Rudy | The Unofficial Novella is comprised of notes found stuffed in a stainless steel shoe box that floated up from what used to be frozen tundra. There will be 25 posts containing random insights into the seasonal saga. They are not in order, but will be when pigs fly. This is #20. DO NOT LET THE CHILDREN SEE THIS POST.

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Exhibit A

Santa gets letters before December 25th. His staff replies with mail merge canned copy. Rudy receives emails and messages too – the morning after the North Pole Post-Holiday Office Party.

Last season, he made his way up the path to the Barn, repeating . . . “I will not sip, munch or chew juniper berries or anything prepared by the elves.”

The mantra failed. He’s up against diabolical odds. For months, the elves plan how to turn Rudy’s Red Nose into an ornament of shame.

They never fail. These are only a few of the emails and Tweets Rudy tried to purge from his inbox the morning after the 2014 party, where silver buckets of brandied apricots lined the buffet table:

“Rudy! I have your pants.”

“Hey Rudy! How did you get the lampshade off your rack?”

“Rudy, please get the mice out of the water cooler!”

“Your antlers are in the back of my sleigh.”

“Return my wife by noon tomorrow or I’ll tell Santa.”

It took a team of hard-nosed Manhattan attorneys six months and 17 motions to get the judge to declare Exhibit A inadmissible. It could have sent Rudy to the pervert pen for life.