Storytime with Uncle Custer: A Christmas Tale
Day 2,218, 14:21
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Published in USA 
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by
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by George Armstrong Custer
Storytime with Uncle Custer: A Christmas Tale
You could wish for anything and find it in the Sears catalog!
Dateline: Monday, December 16 (Day 221
Location: Liberty Advancement Party HQ
Reporter: George Armstrong "Old Man" Custer
Music: Andy Williams - The Christmas Song (1962)
Editor's Note: Today's edition of Custer's Stand is my submission to the latest Media College assignment, full length articles, with guest instructor Gnilraps presiding.
second note: I've been terrible sick the past week or so. no Lap Dancers' Gazette; no Speaker's Word; no contributions to the WHPR. hopefully I can pick myself up and get back on track this week.
"...He knows if you've been bad or good..."
"...so be good, for goodness sake!"
When my dad wasn't being a violent drunk he was a pretty fun kinda whacky genius.. with a warped sense of humor.
For our first Christmas in a real house, he brought home a tree and set it up, but didn't decorate it. Dad said Santa did that when he brought presents-- unless we'd been judged to have been too rotten throughout the year-- in which case we'd get a sack of coal and rocks, and he'd take our tree away and give it to some other kids who were better behaved but couldn't afford a tree. We knew this was true because Santa had brought us a Christmas tree when we lived in the shanty town out between the town dump and the swamp.
My brother and I woke up that Christmas morning to find, at the foot of our beds, big brown paper grocery bags... all dirty and smudged with soot... we immediately knew we were screwed. The old man made a big dramatic thing about us having to face this terrible reality and open the bags.
This was as terrifying an any average day with my dad. Doing our best to hold back the tears (crying always brought more trouble), we sheepishly crawled to the foot of our beds and slowly unrolled the tops of the dirty, wrinkled bags. We knew there'd be more heartbreak inside; we knew we'd have to accept our rocks and coal as our fate; we knew we'd fallen well short of being good boys that year.
Opening the bags we peered into the darkness, fully expecting the worst... But something was wrong, here. Why was there more dirty wrinkled paper in there? There was nothing in the story about dirty paper, just dirty rocks.
We pulled aside the top sheet of sooty brown paper to reveal our presents-- brand new football helmets!
"Go on out to the the living room," the old man ordered, "and see if Santa left anything else for you!"
On our way out of the bedroom we passed by the little pot-bellied wood stove-- we hadn't built a fire on Christmas Eve so Santa could come down the junkyard salvaged stovepipe that served as a chimney, and this morning we had a crackling Christmas fire! There, next to the ever-present big pot of water, was another small pot-- full of hot chocolate! We'd left, the night before, on the little table next to the stove, a plate of cookies alongside a glass of milk and double shot of tequila. The milk was still there.
And there were our very first real Christmas stockings, our names written out in glitter, nailed to the wall next to the stove-- each one stuffed and overflowing with socks and underwear, each with a small hand carved wooden race car poking out of their tops!
This is how our stockings looked to us!
Apparently, Santa had spent the whole night drinking Dad's tequila and making Christmas tree bulbs from styrofoam balls and glitter. He'd strung a mile of popcorn, too, and draped it ever so carefully onto the tree. There was even a small train set that was also decorated, puffing real smoke as it circled around the floor under the tree. On the little train, strapped to a flatcar with a big red ribbon, was a real official football!
The old man interrupted our excitement and asked, "Isn't there something missing from the tree?" Of course, my brother and I were never sure how to take Dad's trick questions, so we just stared at the tree silently, taking a quick inventory.. nice fresh tree, popcorn strings, little candles attached to the outermost branches with baling wire, lots and lots of colorful styrofoam balls, and even tinsel--we'd only seen pictures of tinsel in the Sears "wish book" catalog.. Boy, it looks like Santa went all out on our little tree! Nope, can't see anything missing or out of place...
Mom finally broke the silence and directed us to look all the way up to the top of the tree.. it finally dawned on us-- there's no big star to top off this wonderful tree! Dad broke out Santa's Elmer's glue and little tray of glitter. The tree had a little fork right at the top, so there were actually two top twigs, and the old man presented us each with a clean new styrofoam ball, bigger than any of the other decorations on the tree.
We worked so carefully, my brother and I under close supervision, drawing the lines in glue and then rolling the balls in the tray of glitter... And up we went, one at a time as my Dad lifted us, and jammed our decorations onto those two top twigs. Our first Christmas tree in our first house was complete, topped in sparkling glitter with both a Star of David and a Cross. We didn't understand the significance of the symbols, we only knew that Santa had played a really cool trick on us and then drank a fifth of tequila while decorating our beautiful tree.
You can be Santa, too!
Merry Christmas, friends. You probably have more than you need, so reach out and share with a family who just can't cover the basics. Poor kids deserve a decent Christmas, and it really doesn't take much to make a kid smile and know that Santa didn't forget them.
If you prefer to be an anonymous Santa, your nearby fire station or hospital probably has something going on.
George Armstrong "Old Man" Custer, Citizen, Soldier, Statesman
:::
Get the word out-- shout this Shout!
Storytime with Uncle Custer
http://www.erepublik.com/en/article/2353047/1/20
A Christmas Tale
:::
854
You could wish for anything and find it in the Sears catalog!
Dateline: Monday, December 16 (Day 221
😎
Location: Liberty Advancement Party HQ
Reporter: George Armstrong "Old Man" Custer
Music: Andy Williams - The Christmas Song (1962)
Editor's Note: Today's edition of Custer's Stand is my submission to the latest Media College assignment, full length articles, with guest instructor Gnilraps presiding.
second note: I've been terrible sick the past week or so. no Lap Dancers' Gazette; no Speaker's Word; no contributions to the WHPR. hopefully I can pick myself up and get back on track this week.
"...He knows if you've been bad or good..."
"...so be good, for goodness sake!"
When my dad wasn't being a violent drunk he was a pretty fun kinda whacky genius.. with a warped sense of humor.
For our first Christmas in a real house, he brought home a tree and set it up, but didn't decorate it. Dad said Santa did that when he brought presents-- unless we'd been judged to have been too rotten throughout the year-- in which case we'd get a sack of coal and rocks, and he'd take our tree away and give it to some other kids who were better behaved but couldn't afford a tree. We knew this was true because Santa had brought us a Christmas tree when we lived in the shanty town out between the town dump and the swamp.
My brother and I woke up that Christmas morning to find, at the foot of our beds, big brown paper grocery bags... all dirty and smudged with soot... we immediately knew we were screwed. The old man made a big dramatic thing about us having to face this terrible reality and open the bags.
This was as terrifying an any average day with my dad. Doing our best to hold back the tears (crying always brought more trouble), we sheepishly crawled to the foot of our beds and slowly unrolled the tops of the dirty, wrinkled bags. We knew there'd be more heartbreak inside; we knew we'd have to accept our rocks and coal as our fate; we knew we'd fallen well short of being good boys that year.
Opening the bags we peered into the darkness, fully expecting the worst... But something was wrong, here. Why was there more dirty wrinkled paper in there? There was nothing in the story about dirty paper, just dirty rocks.
We pulled aside the top sheet of sooty brown paper to reveal our presents-- brand new football helmets!
"Go on out to the the living room," the old man ordered, "and see if Santa left anything else for you!"
On our way out of the bedroom we passed by the little pot-bellied wood stove-- we hadn't built a fire on Christmas Eve so Santa could come down the junkyard salvaged stovepipe that served as a chimney, and this morning we had a crackling Christmas fire! There, next to the ever-present big pot of water, was another small pot-- full of hot chocolate! We'd left, the night before, on the little table next to the stove, a plate of cookies alongside a glass of milk and double shot of tequila. The milk was still there.
And there were our very first real Christmas stockings, our names written out in glitter, nailed to the wall next to the stove-- each one stuffed and overflowing with socks and underwear, each with a small hand carved wooden race car poking out of their tops!
This is how our stockings looked to us!
Apparently, Santa had spent the whole night drinking Dad's tequila and making Christmas tree bulbs from styrofoam balls and glitter. He'd strung a mile of popcorn, too, and draped it ever so carefully onto the tree. There was even a small train set that was also decorated, puffing real smoke as it circled around the floor under the tree. On the little train, strapped to a flatcar with a big red ribbon, was a real official football!
The old man interrupted our excitement and asked, "Isn't there something missing from the tree?" Of course, my brother and I were never sure how to take Dad's trick questions, so we just stared at the tree silently, taking a quick inventory.. nice fresh tree, popcorn strings, little candles attached to the outermost branches with baling wire, lots and lots of colorful styrofoam balls, and even tinsel--we'd only seen pictures of tinsel in the Sears "wish book" catalog.. Boy, it looks like Santa went all out on our little tree! Nope, can't see anything missing or out of place...
Mom finally broke the silence and directed us to look all the way up to the top of the tree.. it finally dawned on us-- there's no big star to top off this wonderful tree! Dad broke out Santa's Elmer's glue and little tray of glitter. The tree had a little fork right at the top, so there were actually two top twigs, and the old man presented us each with a clean new styrofoam ball, bigger than any of the other decorations on the tree.
We worked so carefully, my brother and I under close supervision, drawing the lines in glue and then rolling the balls in the tray of glitter... And up we went, one at a time as my Dad lifted us, and jammed our decorations onto those two top twigs. Our first Christmas tree in our first house was complete, topped in sparkling glitter with both a Star of David and a Cross. We didn't understand the significance of the symbols, we only knew that Santa had played a really cool trick on us and then drank a fifth of tequila while decorating our beautiful tree.
You can be Santa, too!
Merry Christmas, friends. You probably have more than you need, so reach out and share with a family who just can't cover the basics. Poor kids deserve a decent Christmas, and it really doesn't take much to make a kid smile and know that Santa didn't forget them.
If you prefer to be an anonymous Santa, your nearby fire station or hospital probably has something going on.
George Armstrong "Old Man" Custer, Citizen, Soldier, Statesman
:::
Get the word out-- shout this Shout!
Storytime with Uncle Custer
http://www.erepublik.com/en/article/2353047/1/20
A Christmas Tale
:::
854
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We'd left, the night before, on the little table next to the stove, a plate of cookies alongside a glass of milk and double shot of tequila. The milk was still there.
\0/
Happy Holidays!
http://www.erepublik.com/en/article/2353051/1/20
Santa visits a soldier.
Voted for timely Yuletide tidings.
The sears catalog brings back many fine memories.
Voted
I had feetie pajamas just like that when I was a kid!
My dad never bothered to get drunk. He would wake up Christmas morning, put his clothes on, come downstairs and throw his breakfast plate across the room exclaiming how the sausage was cold and the eggs tasted like shit. After breakfast we'd go into the living room to open presents. I would open the wrong end of the box or some such and dad would grab the tree, kick the front door off the hinges and throw the tree into the yard. Then he'd yell "Merry f'ing Christmas!" and leave for the day. Mom and I learned 25 years later that he would do this act so he could go to his girlfriends house for the day.
[removed]
yeah, we had that, too.
just goin' for a little Mayberry Memories thing, there.. even though those positive times were few and far between, they're definitely more fun to remember.
Yeah, in a way my dad wasn't really that bad. We were well taken care of and he was protective if someone outside the home made trouble. He just had a fidelity issue and dealt with it poorly. Later in life Mom just told him to pack his hostility and foul mouth and take it to the girlfriends house. She told him he didn't need to make excuses to leave. Just go and call if your coming home for dinner if you want anything to eat. Dads's jaw hit the floor and the yelling and screaming stopped.
Merry Christmas
Voted
That's a good memory Custer, thanks for sharing and Merry Christmas!
No time to read all now, but voted for the moment.
as far as my "Storytime" stories go, this is a good one.. hope you like it when you do return to read it.
FIST
Quality as always Custer.
Good story.
Santa always seemed to prefer Bushmill's at my house growing up. Perhaps he was in a mood for something else after the long flight over.