Subject:     Collage 419: Christmas in Denmark
Date:        12/11/1999 11:31 PM
Received:    12/12/1999 6:57 AM
From:        HumourNet, humournet-bounces@humournet.com
Reply-To:    HumourNet Moderator, vince@humournet.com
To:          The Internet's Moderated Mailing List for Humour, humournet@lyris.n

Collage 419              H u m o u r N e t              11 Dec 1999

Mary L., somewhere in the Southern United States, recently stumbled
across my "Christmas in Denmark" opener (Collage 200) on our Web
site, and apparently found the opener to be pretty accurate:

    I was an exchange student to Denmark in the late '70s, and
    I was laughing so hard at that article, the tears were
    flowing. I just wish I could've seen it when you first
    wrote it, because Poul left something out, which I'm sure
    you would've liked to add. [...]

    In addition to the required cookie decorations, Christmas
    trees in Denmark are traditionally decorated with lots of
    homemade PAPER decorations. School children spend a couple
    weeks before Christmas making stars out of strips of paper
    and weaving paper hearts. [...] These are all hung on the
    tree.  Finally, instead of the plastic-and-foil garland we
    use in the U.S., their garland consists of small Danish
    flags, about 1 1/2" long, glued a couple inches apart onto
    a long string. This is also available in the stores at
    Christmastime, and these flags are made of--you guessed
    it--paper. All this is put onto the real trees with real
    candles. [...]

Thank you for confirming our worst fears, Mary. And for those of you
who haven't seen it, here is a very-slightly-edited version of my
[now infamous] "Christmas in Denmark" opener....

Collage 200               H u m o u r N e t               22 DEC 95

Poul in Denmark (the Kingdom of) mentioned that some of the holiday
material I've been using this season does not have much of a
"worldwide" appeal. Well, there's a good reason for that: I'm in
the U.S. [...]

But since Poul has been kind enough to provide me with some fodder
for holiday fun, I can "go international" for a change.

Apparently, the Denmarkians (I like that more than "Danes," which
sounds too much like Denmark is inhabited by dogs.) (See? This is
why I stick to U.S. topics. I just know I'm gonna burn for this
opener.) (BTW, using the term "Danes" would not be confusing for
people living in Baltimore (Collage 199), who refer to dogs of that
breed as "Great Dames." Makes me think of the women who shop for
clothes in those stores that have extra-wide aisles...)

I digress.

Apparently, the Danes still celebrate Christmas Eve by placing
*real* candles (the kind with *flames* at the top) on their
Christmas trees -- which are also real (read: FLAMMABLE -- just like
my butt's gonna be when this Collage goes out). And, according to
Poul (yeah, let *him* take the heat for this), we're not just
talking one or two candles here, but TWENTY OR MORE *real* candles
on their *real* trees.

You see the problem, I'm sure.

The Danes have this pervasive problem of waking up on December 25th
to find an unusual amount of wind and sun filling the charred
remains of what used to be the house.

Apparently, "pattern recognition" isn't their strong suit.

Poul goes on to say that their insurance companies accept this as
"normal risk," and pay in full on the claims.

If that were the case over here, people would be lighting their
Christmas trees with flamethrowers. "Yup, weirdest thing ya ever
seen, Mr. Insurance Adjuster. One minute, we had our happy little
home, just five full floors of fully-furnished living space -- oh,
did I mention the brand-new Ethan Allan furniture? -- with a full-
size Steinway, an indoor tennis court, and a light sprinkling of
Jacuzzis -- oh, and don't forget the helipad on the roof -- and the
next minute, 'Whoosh!' whole thang barnt right to the ground.
Terrible, I tell you, just terrible. Was the nicest home in the
entire trailer park...."

Poul adds that "to use electric candles -- or, worse, colored electric
candles -- on the tree is considered to be the ultimate in bad taste."

Well, that pretty much sums up the state of affairs here in the
U.S.: "the ultimate in bad taste." OTOH, *we* visit with friends on
Christmas Day because it's an opportunity to fraternize, not because
it's uncomfortable standing outside in the cold amid the charred
ruins of the house while wearing only pyjamas or underwear (or less).

To make matters worse, though, the Danish fun doesn't stop there.
If you somehow managed to survive Christmas without burning your
house to the ground, you get a *second* shot at it on New Year's
Eve. According to Poul, the hip Danish way to ring in the new year
is to set off fireworks. Okay, that's cool so far -- sure, Darwinism
takes its toll on fingers (and lives), but it's hardly extraordinary
behavior.

But those thrill-seeking Danes also use something that Poul refers
to as 'table bombs,' which, "if they work properly, will scatter
confetti or flags all over the house, and burn a hole in your table
cloth."

Why does this *not* sound like an intelligent practice?

Worse yet, "some people do not read the instructions, and set fire
to what they believe are table bombs, but which are actually
fireworks to be used outdoors at least 50 meters from the house ....
Again, you can read in the papers about a number of burned houses."

Okay, now lemme get this straight: We have Danes -- who presumably
have a predilection for indoor explosive ordnance -- lighting this
stuff on the kitchen table, WITHOUT FIRST CHECKING TO SEE IF IT'S
THE INDOOR OR **OUTDOOR** VARIETY?

I guess there's something to be said for these practices: namely,
the average I.Q. of the surviving population on January 2nd must be
at *least* five to ten points higher than it was on December 24th.

Well, Poul wishes us all a very merry Christmas and a happy New
Year. I wish him the same, and also add that I hope he finds himself
alive, well, and still living in the same house on January 2nd. :-)

[End Collage 200 Opener]

On a positive note, Poul *did* find himself alive, well, and still
living in the same house on January 2nd.

This week's Holiday Humour Collection is only three pieces, but they
are pretty good. The first two are from The Olde Broad, herself (for
those of you who might be new to HumourNet, "The Olde Broad" is my
mom): "Christmas Carols Revisited" and "Martha Stewart's Holidays
'To Do' List."

And following up on the Martha Stewart theme is Kaiti T. in
Alexandria, Virginia (it's a dirty job, but somebody has to live
there ;-), with "All I Want For Christmas."

Next week's Collage will feature a long-running favorite, "Bad Gifts";
those of you who still haven't completed your Christmas shopping, take
note. <g>

Many thanks to Kaiti for the Martha Stewart piece -- and, of course,
(note the pre-Christmas suck-up here) lots of thanks to The Olde Broad
just for being the wonderful, selfless person that she is.

:-)

Enjoy ...

- Vince Sabio
  HumourNet Moderator
  vince&#64;humournet.com
____________________________________________________________________
          Opener (above) Copyright 1999 by Vincent Sabio
  Permission is hereby granted to forward or post this "Collage";
  please observe the guidelines stated at the end of the message.
____________________________________________________________________

SUBJ: Christmas Carols Revisited

A selection of carols for your dysfunctional friends....

SCHIZOPHRENIA:
  Do you Hear What I Hear?

MULTIPLE PERSONALITY DISORDER:
  We Three Queens Disoriented Are

NARCISSISTIC:
  Hark the Herald Angels Sing About Me

MANIC:
  Deck the Halls and Walls and House and Lawn and Streets and
  Stores and Office and Town and Cars and Busses and Trucks and
  Trees and Fire Hydrants and..

PARANOID:
  Santa Claus is Coming to Get Me.

PERSONALITY DISORDER:
  You Better Watch Out, I'm Gonna Cry, I'm Gonna Pout,
  Maybe I'll tell you Why.

DEPRESSION:
  Silent Anhedonia, Holy Anhedonia, All is Flat,
  All is Lonely.

OBSESSIVE-COMPULSIVE DISORDER:
  Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock,
  Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock,
  Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock,
  Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock,
  Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock,
  Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock,
  Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock,
  Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock,
  Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock,
  Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock,
  Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock,
  Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock,
  Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock,
  Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock,
  Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock,
  Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock,
  Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock,
  Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock,
  Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock,
  Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rack ........
  ....(oh darn, better start again)

PASSIVE-AGGRESSIVE PERSONALITY:
  On the First Day of Christmas My True Love Gave to Me
  (and then took it all away).

BORDERLINE PERSONALITY DISORDER:
  Thoughts of Roasting on an Open Fire.

[Editor's Note: It's easy to see how the holidays can lead to such
personality disorders. After all, "He knows when you've been
sleeping, he knows when you're awake....." In short, Santa Claus is
watching your every move.... </vs>]

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: Martha Stewart's Holidays "To Do" List

December 1
Blanch carcass from Thanksgiving turkey. Spray paint gold, turn
upside down and use as a sleigh to hold Christmas Cards.

December 2
Have Mormon Tabernacle Choir record outgoing Christmas message for
answering machine.

December 3
Using candlewick and hand-gilded miniature pine cones, fashion
cat-o'-nine-tails. Flog Gardener.

December 4
Repaint Sistine Chapel ceiling in ecru, with mocha trim.

December 5
Get new eyeglasses. Grind lenses myself.

December 6
Fax family Christmas newsletter to Pulitzer committee for
consideration.

December 7
Debug Windows '98.

December 10
Align carpets to adjust for curvature of Earth.

December 11
Lay Faberge egg.

December 12
Take Dog apart. Disinfect. Reassemble.

December 13
Collect Dentures. They make excellent pastry cutters, particularly
for decorative pie crusts.

December 14
Install plumbing in gingerbread house.

December 15
Replace air in mini-van tires with Glade "holiday scents" in case
tires are shot out at mall.

December 17
Child proof the Christmas tree with garland of razor wire.

December 19
Adjust legs of chairs so each Christmas dinner guest will be same
height when sitting at his or her assigned seat.

December 20
Dip sheep and cows in egg whites and roll in confectioner's sugar to
add a festive sparkle to the pasture.

December 21
Drain City reservoir; refill with mulled cider, orange slices and
cinnamon sticks.

December 22
Float votive candles in toilet tank.

December 23
Seed clouds for white Christmas.

December 24
Do my annual good deed. Go to several stores. Be seen engaged in
last minute Christmas shopping, thus making many people feel less
inadequate than they really are.

December 25
Bear son. Swaddle. Lay in color coordinated manger scented with
homemade potpourri.

December 26
Organize spice racks by genus and phylum.

December 27
Build snowman in exact likeness of God.

December 31
New Year's Eve! Give staff their resolutions. Call a friend in each
time zone of the world as the clock strikes midnight in that
country.

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: All I Want For Christmas

Dear Santa,

I rarely ask for much. This year is no exception. I don't need
diamond earrings, handy slicer-dicers or comfy slippers. I only want
one little thing, and I want it deeply. I want to slap Martha
Stewart. Now, hear me out, Santa. I won't scar her or draw blood or
anything. Just one good smack, right across her smug little cheek. I
get all cozy inside just thinking about it. Don't grant this wish
just for me, do it for thousands of women across the country.

Through sheer vicarious satisfaction, you'll be giving a gift to us
all. Those of us leading average, garden variety lives aren't
concerned with gracious living. We feel pretty good about ourselves
if our paper plates match when we stack them on the counter,
buffet-style for dinner. We're tired of Martha showing us how to
make centerpieces from hollyhock dipped in 18 carat gold. We're
plumb out of liquid gold. Unless it's of the furniture polish
variety. We can't whip up Martha's creamy holiday sauce, spiced with
turmeric. Most of us can't even say turmeric, let alone figure out
what to do with it.

OK, Santa, maybe you think I'm being a little harsh. But I'll bet
with all the holiday rush you didn't catch that interview with
Martha in last week's USA Weekend. I'm surprised there was enough
room on the page for her ego. We discovered that not only does
Martha avoid take-out pizza (she's only ordered it once), she
refuses to eat it cold (No cold pizza? Is Martha Stewart living?)
When it was pointed out that she could microwave it, she replied, "I
don't have a microwave." The reporter, Jeffrey Zaslow, noted that
she said this "in a tone that suggests you shouldn't either." Well
lah-dee-dah. Imagine that, Santa! That lovely microwave you brought
me years ago, in which I've learned to make complicated dishes like
popcorn and hot chocolate, has been declared undesirable by Queen
Martha. What next? The coffee maker?

In the article, we learned that Martha has 40 sets of dishes
adorning an entire wall in her home. Forty sets. Can you spell
"overkill"? And neatly put away, no less. If my dishes make it to
the dishwasher, that qualifies as "put away" in my house!

Martha tells us she's already making homemade holiday gifts for
friends."Last year, I made amazing silk-lined scarves for everyone,"
she boasts. Not just scarves, mind you. Amazing scarves. Martha's
obviously not shy about giving herself a little pat on the back. In
fact, she does so with such frequency that one has to wonder if her
back is black and blue. She goes on to tell us that "homemaking is
glamour for the 90s", and says her most glamorous friends are
"interested in stain removal, how to iron a monogram, and how to
fold a towel." I have one piece of advice, Martha: "Get new
friends." Glamorous friends fly to Paris on a whim. They drift past
the Greek Islands on yachts, sipping champagne from crystal goblets.
They step out for the evening in shimmering satin gowns, whisked
away by tuxedoed chauffeurs. They do not spend their days pondering
the finer art of toilet bowl sanitation.

Zaslow notes that Martha was named one of America's 25 most
influential people by Time magazine (nosing out Mother Theresa,
Madeline Albright and Maya Angelou, no doubt). The proof of Martha's
influence: after she bought white-fleshed peaches in the
supermarket, Martha says, "People saw me buy them. In an instant,
they were all gone." I hope Martha never decides to jump off a
bridge.

A guest in Martha's home told Zaslow how Martha gets up early to
rollerblade with her dogs to pick fresh wild blackberries for
breakfast. This confirms what I've suspected about Martha all along:
She's obviously got too much time on her hands. Teaching the dogs to
rollerblade. What a show off. If you think the dogs are spoiled,
listen to how Martha treats her friends: She gave one friend all 272
books from the Knopf Everyman Library. It didn't cost much. Pocket
change, really. Just $5,000. But what price friendship, right? When
asked if others should envy her, Martha replies, "Don't envy me. I'm
doing this because I'm a natural teacher. You shouldn't envy
teachers. You should listen to them." Zaslow must have slit a seam
in Martha's ego at this point, because once the hot air came hissing
out, it couldn't be held back. "Being an overachiever is nothing
despicable. It is only admirable. Never lower your standards," says
Martha. And of her Web Page on the Internet, Martha declares herself
an "important presence" as she graciously helps people organize
their sad, tacky little lives.

There you have it, Santa. If there was ever someone who deserved a
good smack, it's Martha Stewart. But I bet I won't get my gift this
year. You probably want to smack her yourself.

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</collage419>