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Sunday, December 14, 2014

THE OLD MAN AND THE STOVE PIPE (A CHRISTMAS STORY)

by Mystic Madam Misty (Murky) Merkel
Associate Writer
Humor News Nuts Publications

Well, it's almost Christmas again and everyone in my trailer park is making merry indeed.  Every bathtub has a still for making gin and every kitchen counter has a mini-winery setup.  I know some of you might be wondering how we Northern Michigan trailer park people take our baths and showers this time of year when we have stills set up in our bathrooms.  Well, it’s really simple isn't it?  We live in Northern Michigan and we don't bathe much in the winter months up here.  It's just too cold and no one wants to literally catch their death of cold up here.  In my trailer park in particular there is always a good chance of some sort of pneumonia or plague breaking out.  The rats around here are as big as watermelons and big rats like that can carry around a lot of little beasties that cause humans to get very ill.  Getting chilled to the bone by bathing just weakens the immune system so the little beasties can take hold more easily.  

Now, Christmas has always been a holiday when many of us adults look back to fond memories of our childhood in particular, Christmas mornings when we'd unwrap all our wonderful presents that Santa brought us during the night.  

My parents, books and television provided the story of how Santa always brought presents on Christmas Eve.  I remember the stories where Santa would enter the houses of strangers by sliding down their chimneys into the fireplace.  Now, my uncle Mike got into strangers houses with a glass-cutter and crowbar which I thought was much easier then the chimney route.   Of course, a really big difference between Santa and my uncle Mike was that my uncle went into stranger’s houses to get presents and not to leave presents behind.  But like Santa, my Uncle Mike did drink a glass of milk and eat some cookies once and that's when he left some fingerprints behind.  Now, my mom and grandma take a fruitcake to Uncle Mike every year a week or so before Christmas.  That's pretty much the only time they go to visit him because of the shame and all that sort of stuff, at least that's what I was told. 

Getting back to Santa and his trip down the chimney, I was always bothered by the fact that my family had a wood-stove with a small round pipe going up through the roof which I could see was way too small for a little girl like myself to slide down let alone a gigantic fat man like Santa.  This bothered me for years until finally when I was 17 I asked my grandpa how Santa was able to slide down the narrow stovepipe when Santa was so big and fat.  
My grandpa thought for a while and then said, " You see Misty,   Santa can really suck in his belly and can slim right down until he is able to slide right down the stovepipe."

"But, where does all that belly fat go?"  I asked, "I can squeeze into some really tight jeans but then, I have this muffin top of flab sticking out all around me.  Surely, Santa would only squeeze down only so much before he formed a giant muffin top and got stuck in the chimney and could go no farther down."

I was becoming really frustrated and my eyes were starting to tear up.  Grandpa squinted and gave me the weirdest look like he couldn't believe how upset I was over the fat Santa-thin stovepipe issue.  I know he could not have known about all the years I had lain awake at night wondering how someone Santa's size could fit down a stove pipe that was only about eight inches wide.  Several times I had asked my math teachers if they could explain to me the geometrical theory which would allow a man of Santa's girth to slide down a really narrow pipe.  My teachers of course would lay some sort of ridicule on me like “Misty, you’re in high school and you still don’t know about Santa?”  Sometimes, my teachers would ridicule me in front of the entire class.  The class of course would roar with laughter and the other girls would taunt me by calling me by my real name "Murky Merkel," and saying, “Murky Merkel is so stupid!”  Of course, even with the ridicule I would have been greatly relieved of my anxiety if only one single teacher would have been kind enough to explain to me the Santa-stovepipe phenomena.  It was as though everyone on earth knew exactly how Santa could get down a narrow stovepipe except me.  I think they were laughing at me because they thought I was ignorant 

Well, grandpa finally did come through for me and explained exactly how jolly old obese Santa got down the narrow stovepipe.  "It's magic," he said, "you see Santa has magic powers and can easily slim himself down to fit into any chimney, any stovepipe even if it is just a narrow furnace pipe or even the narrow plastic pipe that lets the stink for the septic rise up above the rooftop instead of smelling up your trailer house.


Well, that was it then.  Magic is what allowed Santa to slide into any home by using any pipe that stuck out of the roof.  Grandpa had given me the answer that I had been seeking all those years and that answer was “magic.”  Grandpa was always a wise and dear father figure to me after my dad took off.  I miss grandpa dearly every Christmas.  For unfortunately, Uncle Mike in order to get a reduced sentence turned Grandpa in for selling bootleg cigarettes without collecting taxes on them so, Grandpa won't be home for Christmas for the next three-five years.  


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The opinions and ideas expressed on this blog are those of the Psychic and not those of the Humor News Nuts organization.

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