Mike gets a lesson in the Christmas spirit

What day is this? You there. Boy! What day is this? December 4, you say? Praise God, I am not too late. Here, take this schilling and buy the fattest Christmas goose you can find. What do you mean what's a shilling, you silly simpleton. Never mind, I shall buy it myself.

Ah, what a wonderous time to be alive. Thank you spirits for showing me the way. I didn't mean to be a Scrooge so early in the holiday season. I shall spread the message of good Christmas cheer to everyone through this column.

My story begins last Thursday, though it seems like an eternity has passed since then. As I was traveling to Thanksgiving dinner I saw dozens of homes decorated with Christmas displays. Jolly looking cardboard cutouts of Santa Claus, his reindeer, elves, and Christmas carolers stood before flashy, blinking displays of lights.

"Foul, seizure inducing, tacky fire hazards," I muttered as I pulled into the driveway of the place where I would eat my Thanksgiving meal. The dinner was passable and the sentiments light hearted as my colleagues seemed already flushed with good tidings and holiday cheer. I still felt that it was much too early for people to be so drunk with the Christmas spirit. I chugged a warm cup of coffee, said my good-byes and returned to my home.

I climbed into bed after taking several antacids. I thought that perhaps I had eaten some bad Thanksgiving turkey and that I would feel better after a good night's sleep. Now, that I look back on it, my indigestion may have been a harbinger of the spirits that would visit me later that night.

Before the first spirit visited me I dreamt of a bright, multicolored world. People sang repetitive songs while wearing dopey seasonal sweaters with bells, cotton balls and mistletoe on them. They clogged the aisles of stores frantically grabbing and clutching items that nobody really wants or needs, fearing that they were running out of time to purchase them and fighting with others who blocked their way.

I awoke with a start to find a stranger in my room.

"I am the ghost of last year's Christmas," said the spirit, who looked a lot like Spongebob Squarepants. "You have a lot to learn about the Christmas spirit."

Spongebob grabbed my hand and jumped out of my second story bedroom window. He took me to the apartment that I lived in the year before. Inside, I was watching a Christmas special with my loved ones, eating homemade holiday cookies, which I had decorated, and having an all-around good time.

"See how happy you were back then," Spongebob said.

"Yes, but that was Christmas Day, not the day after Thanksgiving. I need to ease into the holiday spirit, not be flung in immediately after entering a tryptophan-induced food coma."

"You still have much to learn," the spirit said ominously and returned me to my bedroom.

The second spirit to visit me looked like "Just Shoot Me's" David Spade. "Dude, you and I are taking a trip to this Christmas." Spade opened a hole in the floor of my bedroom and when our journey finally stopped we sat in my empty living room.

"Where is everyone?" I shouted, my voice echoing off the walls. "Where's the Christmas tree and my stockings."

"You haven't put up any decorations, you dweeb. You never got in the holiday spirit this year and you were doing this to prove a point."

"What point could I possibly be trying to prove?"

"The point that you're a bitter jerk, maybe."

"Oh, spirit that looks like David Spade, forgive me. I want to celebrate Christmas and if I have to start celebrating on November 29, so be it. I will start crooning along with the incessant Christmas carols. I'll even buy one of those sweaters with the pictures of snowmen and reindeers dancing gaily."

I looked around but David Spade was gone. In his place was a spirit wearing a hooded sweatshirt.

"Are you the spirit of Christmas future?" I asked.

"Yeah, but you can call me Shady." It was Eminem, or a spirit that bore a remarkable resemblance. He launched into a profanity-laced tirade about how I should just keep my big mouth shut and enjoy the holidays. After giving me the verbal tongue-lashing of a lifetime, he took me to a bleak future, where children sat on robotic Santas, who would scan the child's retinas and print out a gift certificate for the toys they wanted. There were no candy canes, Christmas trees, light displays or midgets dressed as elves anywhere to be seen.

"If people like you continue to hate the holidays, this is what Christmas will become. You've got to change or I'll pop a cap in ya."

I begged for my life and for forgiveness, clenching my eyes shut so I would not have to see the drab, lifeless, cold and impersonal Christmas of the future. When I opened my eyes, I was home.

I have learned my lesson. Christmas is a wonderful time of the year, so we shouldn't worry that we start celebrating it earlier and earlier. It is a time for all people to unite with good feelings and cheer and grouchy people only put more people into a grouchy mood.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to find a store that takes schillings and sells geese.

This colum was originally printed on Dec. 4, 2002.