I love cooking for holidays whether it’s Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, or the Fourth of July. You name it, and I love the food traditions on holidays. Usually, when I go home to Alabama for Christmas break, I do most of the cooking for our Christmas get togethers. My mama isn’t as able as she used to be, so I take up the slack. I usually stay through New Years to cook for that holiday as well. My grandmama always made a very traditional southern New Year’s meal, and after she died, I kept the tradition alive. This year will be the third year in a row that I haven been there to cook for New Years, but maybe next year will be different. My mother has assured me that I will be home next year for Christmas “come hell or high water.”
This year, like last year, I’ll be doing all the cooking just for myself, though I may take some cornbread dressing down to my neighbor. My plan is to have some turkey, dressing, and a few vegetables. I have some ice cream for dessert.
Early one May at the North Pole, one of Santa’s reindeer gave birth to a little reindeer. When the little reindeer stood for the first time, he fell forward, directly into a pile of glitter meant for Santa’s toy shop. Everybody laughed at the little fella when he stood back up on shaky legs and his nose was covered in glitter. His mother decided then that she would name the boy Glitzen a portmanteau of her father Blitzen’s name and the glitter he fell into. As Glitzen began to grow, everyone noticed that his nose continued to sparkle. It seemed he never could get rid of all of that glitter that was his first encounter in this world.
All of the boy reindeers used to laugh and call him names. Glitzen knew he was different. Instead of playing reindeer games with the other bucks, he preferred to prance and dance around with the does. He always had a great time with the young does, and he always felt more conformable with them. They never laughed and called him names, and he always seemed to have the best ideas on how to make the does more fabulous. Glitzen had a natural instinct for fashion and decorating. He knew just how to make anyone and everything seem more fabulous. The young bucks refused to have anything to do with him. His parents loved him, but his father was always a little embarrassed by his son. His mother knew her son was different, but she loved how confident he was in himself, even when the other reindeer bullied him.
One year, the world seemed especially gloomy. A pandemic had swept over the Earth. Santa’s elves just didn’t have the spark they usually had. The toys didn’t sparkle, and the wrapped packages were drab. Santa was so disappointed, but he understood that when the world was gloomy, the North Pole was always gloomy as well. Everything in Santa’s Village at the North Pole fed on the energy of the world. When the world was unhappy, Santa’s Village was unhappy too. Santa was blue too, but he tried to keep his spirits up for all those at the North Pole. Santa decided to walk around his Village to try to cheer everyone up and maybe get some spark back around the place.
As Santa walked around, he noticed that the reindeer were not playing any games, just moping around. The elves had no pep in their work making toys, and it showed with the toys they were making. As Santa continued to walk around he heard laughter and singing from somewhere. Santa immediately perked up because someone was obviously having fun. Santa followed the sound to see where the joy was coming from. He entered the barn to see a fabulous sight, a group of young reindeer were dancing and singing. It looked like they were being led by a young reindeer with glitter on his nose and a string of lights in his antlers. The young buck’s bells were making the most wonderous noise, and all seemed to be enjoying themselves.
Santa said, “Everyone outside and in the toy shop were so gloomy, what happened in here to make everyone so festive?” All of the reindeer just laughed and pointed to Glitzen. Santa said, “Glitzen, my boy, how are you able to be so cheerful when everyone else is so gloomy?”
Glitzen looked at Santa and said, “Santa, we can’t all be gloom and doom. Someone has to get the Spirit of Christmas in the air. A little glitter, some lights, and bells can make the world a bit merrier again. I just wanted to show everyone that we need a little Christmas right now.” Then, Glitzen began to sing:
Haul out the holly Put up the tree before my spirit falls again Fill up the stocking I may be rushing things, but deck the halls again now.
For we need a little Christmas, right this very minute Candles in the window, carols at the spinet Yes, we need a little Christmas, right this very minute Hasn’t snowed a single flurry, but Santa dear we’re in a hurry.
Santa joined in singing:
I need to climb down the chimney Turn on the brightest string of lights I’ve ever seen Slice up the fruit cake It’s time we’ve hung some tinsel on the evergreen bough.
Before anyone realized what was going on, the cheer seen in the barn had spread throughout the North Pole. Everyone began to sing:
For I’ve grown a little leaner, grown a little colder Grown a little sadder, grown a little older And I need a little angel sitting on my shoulder Need a little Christmas now
For we need a little music, need a little laughter Need a little singing ringing through the rafter And we need a little snappy, happy ever after We need a little Christmas now.
When the song died down, Santa said, “Yes, we do need a little Christmas now. Glitzen thank you for bringing Christmas cheer back to the North Pole. We need to spread this through the whole world. Glitzen, can you do two things for me?”
Glitzen said, “I’ll do anything I can Santa. What do you need me to do?”
“Glitzen, I need you to help get the elves and the other reindeer in the Christmas spirit again,” said Santa. “Then, on Christmas Eve when I go out to deliver presents to all the boys and girls, I need you to spread this Christmas spirit around the world. People may be on lockdown or quarantined. They may be away from their family for the first time, but they need to know that the joy of the Christmas season can still be felt. We can’t let this pandemic get us down. Will you do that for me, Glitzen?”
Glitzen nodded his head, and he and the girls began to go around covering everything with glitter and tinsel. They sang Christmas songs to get everyone back in the mood for a joyous Christmas. All of the young reindeer, including the young bucks who’d made fun of Glitzen, got into the spirit. The elves had their spark back and the toys shone with glee. The packages they wrapped under Glitzen’s direction were some of the most fabulous to ever come from the North Pole.
On Christmas Eve, Glitzen led Santa’s sleigh spreading glitter and joy throughout the world. While the world still woke up to a pandemic on Christmas Day and many were still separated from each other, there was a new cheer in the world, a fabulousness that it thought it had lost. The Christmas lights on the trees seemed to sparkle just a little more brightly that morning. The tinsel seemed to almost glow on the trees. People went to their windows and threw open the sash. They all sang in unison, no matter their language. They sang “Santa Baby,” “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas,” and “All I Want for Christmas is You.” It was a gay old time and the most fabulous Christmas anyone could imagine.
Santa and all the reindeer congratulated Glitzen on not only being the most fabulous reindeer of all, but for making it the most fabulous Christmas of all.
Merry Christmas, Everyone!
May you all have a fabulous Christmas, too, and if you wake up with a bit of glitter everywhere, then maybe Glitzen has been with Santa to your house this year.
P.S. I know this is a silly story, but I was listening to “Rudolph, the Red Nose Reindeer” on the radio, and I thought of the words, “All of the other reindeer, Used to laugh and call him names, They never let poor Rudolph, Join in any reindeer games.” How many of us growing up as little gay boys had others laugh and call us names? How many of us were never allowed to join others in their games? Rudolph could have been many of us growing up, but instead of having a red shiny nose, ours was a metaphorical glittery nose. We are all fabulous in our own way, and it’s time we recognize just how fabulous Christmas is because of all the gay people out there.
O holy night, the stars are brightly shining It is the night of the dear Savior’s birth Long lay the world in sin and error pining Till He appeared and the soul felt its worth
A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn Fall on your knees; oh, hear the angel voices O night divine, O night when Christ was born
O night divine O night O night divine Night divine
When I was a child, I had a Christmas CD, and one of the songs was Mahalia Jackson’s version of “O Holy Night.” I immediately fell in love with it, and it has been one of my favorite Christmas songs ever since.
“O Holy Night” (also known as “Cantique de Noël”) is a well-known Christmas carol. Originally based on a French-language poem by poet Placide Cappeau, written in 1843, with the first line “Minuit, chrétiens! c’est l’heure solennelle” (Midnight, Christians, is the solemn hour) that composer Adolphe Adam set to music in 1847. The English version is by John Sullivan Dwight. The carol reflects on the birth of Jesus as humanity’s redemption.
In Roquemaure at the end of 1843, the church organ had recently been renovated. To celebrate the event, the parish priest persuaded poet Placide Cappeau, a native of the town, to write a Christmas poem. Soon afterwards that same year, Adolphe Adam composed the music. The song was premiered in Roquemaure in 1847 by the opera singer Emily Laurey. Unitarian minister John Sullivan Dwight, editor of Dwight’s Journal of Music, wrote the English version in 1855.
When I was growing up, we always had our family’s Christmas on December 23rd. We had other family obligations on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, so my mother always put out the fine china and silverware and made a really nice dinner that we ate by candlelight on the twenty-third. It was just my parents, my sister, and myself. We would exchange gifts with each other, and my sister and I knew that Santa Claus would bring the bulk of our gifts after we went to sleep on Christmas Eve. One of our traditions was that before dinner my sister or I read aloud Luke 2:1-20 (ironically, I always hear these verses in Linus’s voice from “A Charlie Brown Christmas”). We then ate our meal and after we finished , we opened presents. After we finished with presents, my dad usually went and watched TV, and my mother took a book from our bookshelves that contained Christmas traditions. She read us “A Visit from St. Nicholas” and then she always read us the letters that have become known as “Yes, VIRGINIA, there is a Santa Claus.”
In 1897, eight-year-old Virginia O’Hanlon wrote a letter to the editor of the New York Sun, and the quick response was printed as an unsigned editorial on September 21, 1897. The response was written by veteran newsman Francis Pharcellus Church and has since become history’s most reprinted newspaper editorial. It has appeared in part or whole in dozens of languages in books, movies, and other editorials, and on posters and stamps. As I read the letter today, it makes me think that what Church said about people in 1897 is still true today.
DEAR EDITOR: I am 8 years old.Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus.Papa says, ‘If you see it in THE SUN it’s so.’Please tell me the truth; is there a Santa Claus? VIRGINIA O’HANLON.115 WEST NINETY-FIFTH STREET.
VIRGINIA, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men’s or children’s, are little. In this great universe of ours man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect, as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.
Yes, VIRGINIA, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus. It would be as dreary as if there were no VIRGINIAS. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.
Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies! You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas Eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if they did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that’s no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.
You may tear apart the baby’s rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived, could tear apart. Only faith, fancy, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, VIRGINIA, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding.
No Santa Claus! Thank God! he lives, and he lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.
As an adult, this letter hits very differently than it did when I was a child. I think the childlike belief I once had of Santa Claus’s existence imprinted on me a desire for open mindedness and curiosity. I may not believe in Santa Claus anymore, but I still believe in the essence of this letter. Maybe I still have a childlike belief in faith, fancy, poetry, love, and romance. I still hope that one day I will find love and romance, but even if I don’t, I still know it exists. Love, like Santa Claus, will continue to make glad our hearts, not only during the Christmas season, but all year long.
Tomorrow is Christmas Eve, and I hope all of you remember to have faith in humanity’s goodness. Yes, there are those with no good intentions, but I believe that most of us are good at heart. So, have a very Merry Christmas!
I hate being cooped up in my apartment all day, so I decided to drive up to Williston, Vermont, to have lunch yesterday. I realized once I started up there that the restaurant (Texas Roadhouse—I love their rolls) I had planned to go to (my boss had given me a gift certificate for it as a Christmas present) was not open for lunch during the week. However, there are plenty of restaurants to choose from. I decided I’d go to 99 Restaurant. If you’ve never heard of 99 Restaurants, they are a New England staple. The food is pretty good too, and I’ve been to the one in Williston enough that the hostess takes me straight to what she refers to as my “usual table.” They are really nice, but while I like the food, it’s the music that I love. They always play ‘90s rock music, which is the music of my high school and college days. I always get their Country Fried Chicken. The first time I had it, I thought the gravy was odd, but it’s grown on me. Anyway, on my way up there, I decided I really didn’t want the Country Fried Chicken, so I decided I’d go to Chili’s and have their Chicken Enchilada Soup, one of my favorites. I got to Chili’s and realized that the parking lot was full, and if there was not parking, there would be no tables available.
Since Chili’s, Ninety-Nine, and Texas Roadhouse we’re all out of the question, I decided to go to Vermont Tap House. Vermont Tap House, as the name implies, has a large selection of beers and hard ciders, but I wasn’t in the mood for alcohol. They also have a large selection of wood-fired pizzas along with appetizers, sandwiches, and salads. I usually get their buffalo chicken pizza. While not a traditional pizza, it is pretty good. As I was waiting on a table, I saw their dessert menu (now we get to the point of this post). They had Maple Creme Brûlée, Chocolate Mousse, Death by Chocolate Cheesecake, Tap House Dough Bites (fried dough balls covered in cinnamon sugar and powdered sugar), and Bread Pudding (ask for the flavor of the day). When I finished my pizza, I asked for the dessert menu and decided to ask about the Bread Pudding. Being from the South, I’ve had a lot of bread pudding, so I was a little skeptical about how well a Vermont restaurant would make bread pudding. My waitress told me that the bread pudding this week was a Chocolate Stout Bread Pudding topped with Toasted Oak Ice Cream and Candied Pecans. It sounded a bit unusual (What flavor is “toasted oak” anyway?) but also intriguing, so I thought, what the hell, I’ll give it a try. Thank God I did. It was wonderful.
The bread pudding was soft and creamy on the inside with a layer of delicious chocolate on the bottom and just a little crunchy on top to give it a contrasting texture. I’ve never had ice cream on bread pudding. Usually, it’s a warm bourbon or rum sauce. The ice cream was a perfect complement. I can’t describe what flavor toasted oak is, but it had a light brown color like a coffee ice cream and had a hint of vanilla. The rest of the flavor was indescribable but delicious nonetheless. There was nothing left when I was finished, and I usually don’t eat all of a dessert unless it is creme brûlée. When my waitress came by to check on me, I did something I never do, I told her to tell whoever made the bread pudding that it was truly delicious. It told her that I was from the South and had eaten my fair share of bread pudding and this ranked as one of the best. She was very pleased to hear it and told me she’d tell their pastry chef. The pastry chef only comes in once a week, and when she does, she prepares all the desserts for the week. My waitress said that she didn’t think she was in today, but she’d definitely give her the message. She said she’d be thrilled to hear it.
I did not have high hopes for a Vermont bread pudding, but it far exceeded anything I would have imagined. The best bread pudding I’ve ever had was at Stonewall’s BBQ in Oak Grove, Mississippi. Many places make bread pudding with whatever bread is available. Stonewall’s made theirs with cinnamon rolls and drizzled it with a delicious white icing. Nothing else ever came close to their bread pudding until the Chocolate Stout Bread Pudding topped with Toasted Oak Ice Cream and Candied Pecans I had yesterday. I don’t often brag about food I’ve eaten in Vermont. I think some of y’all already know how I feel about Vermont “cuisine,” but when I find something good, it’s worth writing about. This bread pudding was worth writing about.
A Visit from St. Nicholas By Clement Clarke Moore – 1779-1863
‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse; The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there; The children were nestled all snug in their beds, While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads; And mamma in her ’kerchief, and I in my cap, Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap, When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter. Away to the window I flew like a flash, Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash. The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below, When, what to my wondering eyes should appear, But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer, With a little old driver, so lively and quick, I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick. More rapid than eagles his coursers they came, And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name; “Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen! On, Comet! on, Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen! To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall! Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!” As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky; So up to the house-top the coursers they flew, With the sleigh full of Toys, and St. Nicholas too. And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof The prancing and pawing of each little hoof. As I drew in my head, and was turning around, Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound. He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot, And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot; A bundle of Toys he had flung on his back, And he looked like a pedler just opening his pack. His eyes—how they twinkled! his dimples how merry! His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry! His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow; The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth, And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath; He had a broad face and a little round belly, That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly. He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf, And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself; A wink of his eye and a twist of his head, Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread; He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk, And laying his finger aside of his nose, And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose; He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, And away they all flew like the down of a thistle, But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight, “Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night.”
About This Poem
I know very few poems by heart, but I can say this one all the way through from memory. It was always a favorite of mine during my childhood. My mother used to read it to us when I was young, so it always brings back fond memories of a happy childhood, back when life was innocent and simple.
On December 23, 1823, a poem called “A Visit from Saint Nicholas” was published anonymously in the Sentinel, the local newspaper of Troy, New York. This piece offered a different take on Santa Claus, a figure who was, until that time, traditionally depicted as a thinner, less jolly, horse-riding disciplinarian, a combination of mythologies about the British Father Christmas, the Dutch Sinterklaas, and the fourth-century bishop Saint Nicholas of Myra.
The poem in the newspaper painted a different picture: it gave Santa eight reindeer, and even named them; it described a Santa who could magically sneak in and out of homes via chimneys; and it created the venerated, cheerful, chubby icon that is everpresent in holiday cards, movies, television shows, and malls everywhere. The poem, of course, is now known as “‘Twas the Night Before Christmas,” after its famous first line. Thirteen years after it was published, Clement Clark Moore took credit for its authorship, though his claim to the poem is now in question. Many believe the poem was actually penned by New York writer Henry Livingston.
About the Poet
Clement Clarke Moore was born on July 15, 1779, in New York City. He received a BA from Columbia College in 1798 and an MA in 1801. Moore was the author of Poems (Barlett & Welford, 1844), which included the poem “A Visit from St. Nicholas.” Moore also published several academic works, including A Compendious Lexicon of the Hebrew Language(Collins & Perkins, 1809). He taught at the General Theological Seminary in New York City from 1821 to 1850. He died on July 10, 1863, in Newport, Rhode Island.
Joe
The Closet Professor 