Doug Blough

“I’m dreaming of a white Christmas; just like the ones I used to know, but if you’ll just listen, there’s something missin’, oh can’t you hear the west wind blow?

“So I’m dreaming of a windy Christmas; with a snowball’s chance in hell of white; may your days be gusty and bright, with your favorite hat nowhere in sight.”

If ol’ Bing the crooner visited Park County this time of year, he wouldn’t be so darn chirpy. ’Round these parts, it’s a pipe dream of a white Christmas. Who knows if it’s global warming, but those skies ain’t storming. All I know is, for a lot of years, roofing was canceled for the first time in September due to blizzard conditions. We’d have a respite for a brief autumn, but by mid-November, there was precious little roofing going on.

You looked around lately? Roofers are sprouting like wild December mushrooms, shedding coats by noon. The coats are on the ground by mid-afternoon and shingles are scattered as far as the eye can see. Pardon my wind-fueled rage, but I’ve had enough!

But you’ve heard enough of me crow about the low blow of no snow. Just know that I miss it and rue with a degree of bitterness the death of the Snow Angel and the statuesque sight of a lone snowman, standing guard over laughing children. And oh how we miss relieving ourselves while signing our name in a fluffy powder. I think I speak for everyone in sharing my wistfully nostalgic remembrances. But alas, snow is a no-go.

Still, Christmas without snow can be just as magical. Yeah, right, and Halloween without candy and costumes that stereotype foreigners can still be fun. Thanksgiving with Spam instead of turkey and no NFL games? Every bit as enjoyable, I suppose.

Seriously though, Christmas isn’t about barometric pressure, wind velocity and receding hairlines being exposed. No, it’s about its namesake Jesus, new birth and giving. It’s truly more blessed to give than receive. So in that spirit, I give you my gift wish list. If that sounds selfish, well, last I checked, there is no U in Christmas, so may your giving blessings abound.

Actually, I find it preferable to focus on what I don’t want, because standing in a returns line is tedious and unproductive. I hated getting clothes when I was a kid and I know my reactions were less than grateful, sadly. Well, I have come to love gifts of expensive clothing. Vests are one of my pet garments, but take note: Outer-wear without pockets is like yo-yos without strings. Vests and coats need not only your standard pockets, but also lining pockets and pouches on the inside.

I’m known to travel with a ridiculous amount of stuff, packing things I never end up using. My nephews and Lincoln Reese never let me forget our trip to Vegas for the Final Four. I brought a bunch of reading material, questionably thinking I might find time to read in the sinful city that never sleeps.

But their derisive cackling reached new heights when they saw the shoehorn I included in my essentials. The way they hooted, you’d think a frog had leapt from my travel bag. At any given time, I have several pens, mechanical pencils, crossword puzzles, phone, glasses, my rat-tailed comb (which also seems to draw lot of chortling comments) and various other items. Pockets, people: I need pockets! Do not gift me with pocket-less clothing.

Also, please nothing one-ply. I’ve actually received gifted toilet tissue — mainly during the shortage — but if it’s one-ply, I’ll hand it off to the first homeless person I see. And he’d probably trade it for one sock. Also, NO Slinkys; I still have a couple in working order and I’ve pretty much outgrown them anyhoo.

I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but I won’t accept anything that says, “Assembly required.” I don’t need reminders of how cripplingly unmechanical I am; I have a nephew to do that every time I call and ask if he can stop and open the package of new batteries. (Rusty is the technology whiz’s name.) While he’s there, I sometimes need entry into the remote control to insert them and he may also have to tear open a bag of candy with a dotted line that apparently means nothing. Before I let him go, I often have to ask, “How come my phone says this?”

So all I ask is: If you buy it for me … YOU put it together!

But enough about me. When it’s all said and done, aren’t the holidays all about family? I’ve found they tend to give the most expensive gifts.