March Madness

At one time in my life the term March Madness meant the excitement of basketball season was upon us and for me that meant the enjoyment of my favorite youthful sport in all it's glory.  Don't get excited sports fans...this post has nothing to do with shooting hoops.  Rather it has everything to do with my daily trip to work and the frustrations of seeing the various displays of human apathy in its unique form.  Oh yes, the folks who feel having their Christmas decorations ablaze in the wee morning hours of March is the topic of today's blog!

So imagine this, on my way to the job of my dreams, cup of coffee in hand, listening to my favorite jingles on XM, pondering the day ahead and the various tasks awaiting me.  Frantically cursing the traffic with no chance of passing on the country roads before me.  My thoughts methodical.  My focus blurred only by the wildlife that frequently attempts to impede my travel.  I round the turns swiftly as if riding on rails, and BAM...there it is!  Twinkling lights, vibrant reflections of days gone by, distracting my expedition.  The first day I am drawn to the images like a moth to a flame.  How pretty, I think.  Very nicely done.  THAT was in early January.

February comes.  Ok, so Christmas is a month or so past, it is really time to pack those decorations away, but perhaps an aged individual resides within having no family to assist in the removal of what remains of the year's most blessed holiday season.  February goes.

March!  Are you kidding me right now?  Has anyone checked on the people living inside that house? Am I going to see this on the next 48 Hours Mystery episode?  Should I stop and check on those people?  What if they are deceased inside that house?  How would I explain my random detour, my footprints circling the house in the snow, my fingerprints on every doorknob as I tried to gain entry?

"We'll Officer, you see, I couldn't fucking stand the sight for one more day of the Christmas lights of
the deceased.  So, I felt the need to stop, tell the shit head that we were now living in the month of
March, and I noticed some eggnog sitting on the counter.  That sir, further infuriated me, so I began to knock on every door, determined to wake the lazy ass that I could see sleeping on his couch from the door in back of the house...you know the one with the wreath on it.  As I banged on the door I noticed that I was clearly being ignored.  Because he was not budging, I decided to open the door and walk inside to have a word with the jolly old elf.  Upon entering the home I noticed the mistletoe, the tree fully lit, stockings hung by the chimney with care, all the bullshit reminiscent of the most wonderful time of the year.  That is when I yelled, "Hey, Saint Nick, get your ass up.  It is fucking March, I'm trying to get to work, and I'm here to tell you that the time has come to take down your decorations!"  He ignored me, so I did grab the goblet of eggnog and toss it his way.  When he didn't stir, I stormed over to the couch and quickly realized that in my frustration I had in fact wrapped my hands around his neck, but he was already dead.  This sir is when I got scared, locked the house back up, and went to work.  While I realize my DNA is all over the place, I don't know the guy and had no real motive to kill the man.  Do I need an attorney?"

Because I have now played this entire scenario out in my head, I guess my best course of action is to  take the road less traveled and develop a new route to work.  Another option, would be to suck it up and ignore the possibility of Dead Santa.  If, however April arrives and this matter is not resolved, I may in fact take my chances and spring into action.  The snow will be gone by then and I will make certain that I leave no DNA behind!

If you are in fact reading this, and are an offender of this type of behavior, please, do me the favor of removing your decorations.  Save me the trouble of mounting legal fees in my defense of the Capital Murder charges I am sure to face by showing clear premeditation through the writing of this blog.

Merry Fucking Christmas!