Now help me move this aluminum pole

It’s Festivus again–and I love how it’s taken about 10 years A.S. (the only measurement of time appropriate to make) for the Festivus craze to catch on and go commercial. I’ve been hearing tales of actual Festivus poles for sale–what’s next, a Hallmark card that sings a pre-recorded list of grievances? Speaking of which, here is my exchange of grievances with my homeland, Eugene, Oregon:

  1. Is sunlight for fatties or something? Oregon seems to have taken the energy-saving thing to the ultimate extreme and is refusing any and all sunlight for all I can tell. This morning I woke up in pitch dark, thinking, "Meh, this cold I have is waking me up in the middle of the night and I am sad about it," and I looked at my clock and it was 8:30. I realize it’s been like this my whole life, but only now that I live down in the land of 55 degree "cold" and my substantially weakened immune system do I notice.
  2. Is there some sort of prerequsite for writing a letter to the editor of the local paper? Yes, obviously, everyone who does this is a crank, but usually a run-of-the-mill crank and not a total bigot. A few days ago there was a complaint that the Eugene Ballet Company employed an African-American dancer in "The Nutrcracker" as a snowflake…the letter called it political correctness run amok…because anthropomorphized pieces of inanimate weather have race?!? Fuh? Sometimes I want to firebomb humanity.

Now bring on the Feats of Strength.

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