Being the New Year, I’ve been out for some early morning walks -- my usual two or three weeks of gonna-get-in-shape-this-year, no fooling!, before I slip back into my true sedentary nature. But I have to tell you, I’ve been noticing some rather sordid evidence of what could only be astounding nightly orgies by gods of gigantically priapic proportions. Their discarded condoms, bizarre and other-worldly, lie all over front lawns, in groups of two or three, occasionally and stunningly in hedonistic parties of eight or nine— even more, if you clump neighboring lawns together. These are gods and giants of all races and genders (some of them not yet invented, I’m thinking), who’ve been donning and then doffing condoms devilishly designed to please-- well, I’m not ready to imagine quite who is being pleased by the top-hatted jaunty snowman, the antlered Rudolphs, the swirling snowglobes with embedded working trainsets, the Mickey and Minnie Mouse ears popping out from under Santa Elf hats. Let’s just say that these multi-gendered gods are having way more fun in these new weeks of January than the rest of humanity put together.
But perhaps we should forgive them for their slovenly ways, for being too delirious or drunk, giddy or passed out to dispose of their protection more considerately or hygienically; maybe we should tolerate their frisky behavior, glad they are using protection and neither spreading around massive cases of Giant STD nor creating little god-monsters. Let's count our blessings: what ever they're doing must be in another realm for it's inaudible and invisible –at least they’ve never woken me up. We only have to witness the limp, soggy by-products of their frolics for a few weeks of the year. Hmmm, come to think of it, this has been going on since late November. Oh wait, these are the deflated giant holiday displays pumped up nightly over the 39 days of Christmas by home owners out to impress each other with their humongous holiday cheer and massive quantities of hot air…. oh, well, then, never mind…
