Love, Kristen: A Holiday Wishlist For You During the Upcoming New Year

A string of blinking Christmas lighgs

Christmas tree .gifHappy Solstice, Festivus, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa and Merry Christmas, Joyeux Noël, Glædelig Jul, Hartelijke Kerstroeten, Frohliche Weihnachten, Kurisumasu Omedeto, Feliz Año Nuevo and Season’s Greetings! That should cover everyone. Don’t want to offend or leave out anybody.

I can’t believe how fast this past year flew by. Is it just me, or is it I’m growing old fast? Don’t answer that!

People always experience hardships throughout their lives, whether it be physically, emotionally, financially, politically, scholastically, spiritually or metaphysically, whatever.  Nobody promised us a rose garden, as the song goes.

So, with that in mind, allow me to present my annual wishlist for health, happiness and prosperity to all my friends here who are faithful readers, and to all others who happen to stray in:

  • May your hair, teeth, face-lift, abs and stocks not fall.
  • May your blood pressure, triglycerides, cholesterol, white-blood count and mortgage interest not rise.
  • May you get a clean bill of health from your dentist, cardiologist, gastro-endocrinologist, urologist, proctologist, podiatrist, psychiatrist, general practitioner, plumber and the IRS.
  • May you find a way to travel from anywhere to anywhere in the rush hour in less than an hour, and when you get there, may you find a parking space.
  • May Friday evening, tonight and next Friday night, find you seated around the dinner table together with your beloved family and cherished friends, ushering in the rest of the holiday season and new year ahead.
  • May you find the food better at these gatherings, the environment quieter, the cost much cheaper, and the pleasure much more fulfilling than anything else you might ordinarily do.
  • If in America, may you have the strength to go through a year of presidential campaigning.
  • May some of the campaign promises made be kept.
  • May you believe at least half of what the candidates propose.
  • May what you see in the mirror delight you, and what others see in you delight them.
  • May telemarketers and scammers wait until after you finish eating dinner to make their land-line calls. Better yet, may they stop calling you at all. When I answer and hear silence for more than one second, I hang up. They never call back.
  • May your check book and budget balance.
  • May the above wish include generous amounts for charity.
  • If out of work, may you find the job of your dreams in 2016.
  • If a lazy bum like Mike Slickster, may you continue to keep on, keeping on.
  • May students ace every test in 2016, although you’ll still have to study for them.
  • May you find enlightenment and enjoyment in the simple things of life.
  • May you get into lesser arguments with your mate, friends, relatives, neighbors, coworkers, classmates, whomever.
  • May you find solace from someone when needed.
  • May you find peace in your thoughts.
  • May you get much deserved recognition for your sincere efforts.
  • May you remember to say “I love you” at least once a day to your spouse, child, parent; but not to your secretary, nurse, masseuse, hairdresser or tennis instructor.
  • May we live as intended in a world at peace and with awareness of the beauty in every sunset, each flower’s unfolding petals, every baby’s smile and all the wonderful, astonishing, miraculous beats of our hearts.

To end this mushy monologue on a humorous note, I was at the beauty salon yesterday afternoon in Beckley to get a perm for the holidays.

In the chair next to me sat Johnny Hatfield’s mother, whose accompanying young child, a little girl of about five or six, kept pestering her mom, whining and being somewhat of a brat, typical of all the kids in that family.

To calm her down, the beautician gave the kid a package of two dessert cakes and suggested she go sit down by the magazine rack and eat them.

“But why can’t I stand here and eat them by my momma?”

“Because, Sweetheart, you’re going to get hair on your Twinkie.”

“I know,” the youngster said. “I’m going to get boobies too.”

Her mother gave the tyke “The Look.” You know which one I’m talking about, the one that signals bloody hell is soon to follow. A few posts back, Mike mentioned the infamous facial expression his dad gave him.

The precocious urchin sat down instantly, pouting in her chair by the weekly rags, but not sad enough to stop her from polishing off both Twinkies in no time flat, only to come back in record time to pester her mother again.

Kids do and say the darnedest things, don’t they?

Happy holidays and catch you after the first of the year.



About Mike Slickster

As an early retiree with an honorary doctorate degree from the proverbial "School of Hard Knocks," this upcoming author with a lot of free time on his hands utilizes his expansive repertoire for humorous yet tragic, wildly creative writing that contains years of imaginative fantasy, pure nonsense, classic slapstick, extreme happiness and searing heartbreak; gathered by a wealth of personal experiences throughout his thrilling—sometimes mundane or unusually horrid—free-spirited, rock-'n'-roller-coaster ride around our beloved Planet Earth. Mike Slickster's illustrious quest continues, living now in Act Three of his present incarnation, quite a bit on the cutting edge of profundity and philosophical merriment as seen through his colorful characters, most notably evident in the amusing Thirty Days Across the Big Pond series, all of which can be found at
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