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Christmas is the quintessential American holiday. We spend money we don’t have on things we don’t need for people we don’t really like. It’s pretty much the super holiday, and it absorbs the powers of all those lesser holidays. It has the presents of a birthday, Thanksgiving’s gluttony, Easter’s religiosity and in my family at least, St. Patrick’s Day’s drunkenness.

A lot of people complain that we have lost the meaning of Christmas. They feel we should focus on the death of Jesus and help those less fortunate. On this one day of the year, I agree.

In Virginia you can only buy liquor at state-run ABC stores, and for some reason, they sell gift cards. I bought a $100 worth of $10 cards and handed them out to local bums. I didn’t want to give them cash and have them spend it on food or shelter. I wanted them to spend it on something fun, and what’s more fun than a one liter bottle of Aristocrat Vodka?

Even though I hate my kids, I even spoil them on Christmas. Unlike their birthdays, which only serve to remind me how much I regret they were ever born, this day has nothing but happy memories. I buy them a ton of gifts, and as morning gives way to slightly later morning, and that sweet rum glow envelops me, I might even give them a hug, or at the least a hearty handshake.

Christmas. Truly an amazing time of year.