MR ZIGGY

Today morning I woke up earlier than normal to find the world fresh and already wake beaming with a kind of exuberance that only Christmas could bring about in me as in him. I guess it was rather stupid that i was being insanely happy although having absolutely nothing to be extraordinarily cheerful about more so the opposite. This season I had committed myself to wide grins and Sinatra carols and a plastic Christmas tree. Deciding there was never better a time to pour out my festive peskiness onto all those around me. I put my favorite christmas sinatra song on.soothing me with let it snow at 1000 watts almost convincing me it was indeed snowing outside. Just as I imagined I saw my brother and dearest sister arising from the depths of a pile of sheets like swamp monsters from an old and rather badly done horror flick. The monsters were disturbed from their slumber for the swamp was now alive with the sound of music. So in order to vent my share of joyous energy I devised that today would be ideal for the mounting of our dearest plastic Christmas tree. I never thought I would ever have been in love with plastic of any sort but here I was staring dumbfounded at this 15 yr old giant. The many Christmas’s of my life it had born witness to flashed before my eyes. My love to this plastic structure catalytically intensified the more I looked at it almost driving me to the insanity of naming it. That was a funny thing I had always noticed in people. We always considered it distantly agreeable to talk to inanimate objects as long as they were named & if they were to be found wanting of one and u were found whispering to any such object you would be met with a cry mostly resounding “have you gone bollocks”. Hence keeping this obscure law in mind I named the tree Mr. ziggy (don’t even bother asking). The main intention behind such an act being that my ranting rambling Christmas chatters was bearable by human ears only for a rather short period of time. Now me my eager sister and my grumpy half awake brother were pulling out the Christmas decorations from the attic. Since I was the more mowgli type in the trio I was assigned the task of climbing up the attic to fetch the treasures. I soon found myself covered in soot and the smell that was a mixture of kerosene old rotting newspapers and mice shit. After this heinous task was done we proceeded to mount Mr. ziggy with our choicest decorations although my suggestion to string popcorns were dismissed by statements such as phaw t’cha and stop copying Archie comics asshole. Hence I returned my comments to the more avid and accepting listener Mr. ziggy explaining to him y stringing popcorns was indeed a rather bright idea. Soon Mr. ziggy’s adornment by us took up almost a day more so owing to disturbing statements from my obsessively compulsively perfectionist of a brother about the blemishes in the horizontal vertical and even 3 dimensional proportions of the tree. Me obviously having to right these wrongs as he shouts out directions from the other end. Finally when Mr. ziggy was as handsome as a prince and my brother\platoon commander could not find even a hairs breadth of a mistake night had arrived. The children from the neighboring houses gathered like bees to watch us switch the lights on Mr. ziggy. My brother handed me the switch with absolute pride glittering in his eyes. Now all eyes were on me rebuking me for takin too bloody long.so I held a breath and flicked the switch on. After seeing Mr. ziggy for 15 yrs I always wondered why I never got tired of him. Now as I watched with bated breath I know that question was too silly to be answered. I have no idea how long we stayed there as we watched Mr. ziggy dance in the midst of a rainbow of colors. Today was his day, LET IT SNOW LET IT SNOW LET IT SNOW....