Nutty as a...

The famous Aunt Beelzebub (note: not her real name) and I were discussing December today. Specifically, how December and the whole holiday season are really like fruitcake. It sounds like a good idea, so you say, “yeah, sure — heck, I’ll take two!” But nobody really wants fruitcake. Now you’re stuck with it. You’ve got the damn thing. You steel yourself, thinking, “it can’t possibly be that bad. I’ll just take it slow.” And for a little bit, it’s actually kinda cool. You’re having a pretty decent time. Hell, yeah, fruitcake! In a jaunty little Christmas tin with a ruddy-cheeked Victorian urchin child on the front! Bring it on! (In a side note, isn’t it a little creepy that street people are appropriate holiday décor?) So, the fruitcake… Without warning, it’s “Oh, f-k. A brazil nut.” Dammit! You weren’t prepared for this! You can’t just spit the thing out and be all, “never mind.” You’re committed at this point. Your little holiday cocktail napkin is woefully inadequate anyway. And people are watching. They’re expecting you to enjoy the fruitcake, already, like a normal person!!!! Be jolly, for Christ’s sake! Mustering your courage, you soldier on. Knowing the stupid thing is literally strewn with landmines. Dodgy green unidentifiable gelatinous substance…check. Maraschino lava bits… check. Suspicious dried fruits…check. Random acts of marshmallow schmaltz, vaguely boozy moments, dessicated blobs of brown stuff …you could make a list, and check them all twice. Too many surprises, too many opportunities for utter catastrophe. Far too much nougat. In the end, you wish you’d just gone with a good, no-frills chocolate chip cookie. Hard to screw up a chocolate chip cookie — reliability is their stock and trade. Sure, it’s a little ordinary, but far less dangerous than the fruitcake. Not so many sharp edges. Plus, you get a nice glass of super-cold milk to go along with your cookie, and how can that ever be bad? Just ask the fat guy in the red suit. (The one with the fruitcake in his beard.)