A Pagan Spirited Christmas

Growing up, I’d try to sell my Dad on allowing my mom to get a Christmas Tree and say,” Mom converted to Judaism to kick Jesus to the curb and marry into your putzy DNA dad. The least you can do is let her get a Christmas Tree already, bigger than the cobweb covered Bonsai tree relegated to the corner of our side patio last year Dad.” Dad says, “Jews don’t buy Christmas trees, unless the plan is to convert one into a Tree House and flip it for a profit.” Dad adds, “Son, when Christians look at a Christmas Tree, they see a Christmas Tree. When Jews look at a Christmas Tree, they see a camouflaged cross.”

One year for Christmas Eve, my wife had to work that evening, so we didn’t visit her folks for Christmas that year. So, I missed out on receiving the same set of black socks from my mother-in-law because the cost of postage cost more than the socks themselves. So much for postponing laundry for another week.

Another year for Christmas in Delaware, whose state slogan should be, “Your Nazi Gold Is Safe With Us, the only gift my daughter received from her Christian grandparents was a plastic, toy chest with no toys in it. I calmed my daughter and said, “Don’t worry Matilda, when we get back home to New York, will fill it with your eight thousand Hanukkah gifts.”

I wrote a short story for Hanukkah called Gimmel Be Good about the kid who invented the Dreidel game to distract the Romans from their banned Torah studies by making it a gambling game which used fake news gold Gelt. So, if a Roman Officer crashed your home to see if any forbidden circumcision was being performed to remove the future head buried into a floppy Sleeping Bag look, The Roman officer would think, “Oh, another degenerate Jew with a gambling problem, nothing to see here, play on.”

At Whole Foods, I got an Albert Einstein ornament decoration for our Christmas Tree, which I bought because it’s a solid anti-semitic qualifier. Especially, knowing, how Einstein played a huge role in building the Atom Bomb, not some Nazi tweaked on Crystal Meth, giving heil Hitler shout outs to a Swastika Flag, which looks like 2 gay stick figures giving each other a 69 on a Seesaw.

My wife got tense when I brought home the Albert Einstein ornament. She said, “Decorate your own tree.” I said, “I thought it was our in-house non-denominational tree. Because you bought a white Guido tree like the one Ray Liotta brings home for Karen in Goodfellas after he starts selling cocaine behind Paulie’s Back. So the tree you got doesn’t count as the traditional, Jesus loves you no matter what Christmas tree, even if your dad was the former head of Planned Parenthood like Bill Gate’s baby shower crashing Dad was. Wife says, “But the Christmas Tree is a pagan symbol.” I say, “But I’m trying to raise our kids in a Jewish household, not on the set of the Slayer video, Rain On More Blood.”  Plus, true believing Jews don’t bend over backwards to worship idols like Hiding Biden while giving God the stiff arm, talk to the hand treatment, or else the Maccabees would’ve never deliverthed the smackdown on the Syrians who tried to force my people to eat one too many ham and cheese sandwiches for our tastes. But Jews are the pushy, demanding ones, not the more inclusive, all loving Christians of yesteryear, and I’ll take the crusades 1 through 9 Alex.  Fine, I’m being a paranoid Jew, the Christmas Tree isn’t a camouflaged Cross, it’s just another pagan symbol rip off. So, let’s up the ante and I’ll pile all my Led Zeppelin and Black Sabbath records to the ceiling and call it a tree, in the spirit of stacking pagan symbols on top of each other. I’ll even drape the bottom of my dark metal tree with a Ouija board signed by Jimmy Page from Ebay, as a combined big kahuna Hanukkah gift for all 3 kids, in case our little ones get burnt out on playing dreidel to Adam Sandler’s Chanukah song on Vinyl, one too many times, even with the new added verse, “Linda Sarsour, not a fan.”

Michael Kornbluth  

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