Who says, "Ho, ho, ho" anyway?

Now that the holiday season is starting its denouement, dare I complain about a fixture of holiday literature and tradition: the ho ho ho?

Jolly ol' Santa can't be anywhere without that ridiculous verbal tic, and the reformed Scrooge seems like a lunatic with his hearty jolliness, "Fabulous boy, marvelous boy...." as he sends a perfect stranger-- a young boy-- off to buy the biggest goose in town. It's a miracle he wasn't arrested and locked up.

Have you ever heard anyone actually laugh with the words, "Ho, ho, ho?" Squirting milk out of noses, yes. Squeaks and squeals, yes. Snorts, wheezes, even tears streaming down cheeks (sorry, that's me), gasps: all authentic. "Ho, ho, ho," no, no, no. It's fake. Give it up. And it scares the children.

To much jolliness always alerts me to possible depression. (Have you noticed that depressed people can be really good at overacting happiness?) It's my quick diagnosis. Uber-animated? Depression.

I also have a very fast and foolproof way of diagnosing autism. I could make a fortune on this one.
After spending years standing with dozens and dozens of classes of elementary school children getting their pictures taken, and then getting my very own bound booklets of all the class pictures to peruse over the course of a school year, I discovered something I call "The Bell Test." Bell is the name of the school picture company we used. Children with autism almost always do something weird with their faces in school pictures. The other kids happily grin when the photographer says, "Say stinky feet." Not the ones on "the spectrum" who self-consciously stare or cross their eyes or make a face. They flunk the Bell Test. It's uncanny how often this occurs. (Of course you don't want to look at the huge number of horrible candid pictures that have been taken of me! These are school class pictures where the subject knows the camera shutter is about to click I'm talking about.) If you are worried about autism, just check out the particular child's class pictures for several  years. Crazy faces every year? Bingo!

So, there you have it: you can diagnose lunacy, depression and autism without ever having to study the disorders or attend medical school, all by just reading my little blog.

Despite my Santa Rant, Jay plays a wonderful Santa for the grandchildren. The more obvious the fake beard, the better. "Is that Grandpa?" "I know it's you, Grandpa!" It's a good time this way--even if he does "ho, ho, ho" far too much to suit me. It IS Grandpa, and they know it and aren't being forced, crying, to sit on some strange man's lap.

Merry Christmas, and a happy new year lower case (not necessarily all 365 days). I'm allowing you some days that are not so jolly! Don't want anyone thinking you're insane or depressed.