Well, I don’t know how your Christmas is going, but mine couldn’t be better. Couldn’t be better if Santa loaned me the reindeer for a jaunt to the sunny zones — after, of course, his own blessed and joyful romps on the roofs and down the chimneys of all the world’s houses.
How could you say that, I hear the perceptive reader ask, when you are in Toronto, where the malls are a scene of menace, shoppers and their children harassed, and where some school boards (righteous cowards) forbid even the saying of “Christmas” (“winter holiday” is their desperate, bloodless substitute). Banning Christmas and all its wonderful trappings — particularly the Christmas tree — falls under the ever-dropping guillotine of inclusion.
