The taste of Christmas

Of course, my grande peppermint mocha (that means "tasty treat" in Fritalian) formula up there isn't all good news. Just take a look at this analysis from the jokers at Nutrition Data. Twelve fat grams, more than half the calories from carbs, and a glycemic load of a whopping 18.

No wonder Santa is so fat.

Holi-don'ts

I'm something of a party juggernaut this time of year. In the last week, people have seen me and Mrs. N-B at my work party, parties thrown by the mayor, the governor, the left-wing media, and even an environmental group. From this experience, I've culled some holiday party do's and dont's.

• Drink early, drink often. On the night of my ill-fated 2002 work holiday party, back when I was a hack, I managed to avoid being made fun of the next Monday at work by being so inebriated I had to leave at 8:30 p.m. This left another 2+ hours for people to do things more embarrassing than my dance with my boss. Someone complied by dancing on a table, falling off, and bruising her coccyx.


• Don't force the small talk. I learned this in 2001. Getting a little facetime with Acting Governor Jane Swift, I nearly made a joke that would have inadvertently referenced the time she used a State Police helicopter to fly home for Thanksgiving. I stopped myself at the last minute, when the Checkpoint Charlie in my head realized I was about to not only put my foot in my mouth but swallow it whole. Score.


• Have cash. Another 2002 tidbit. If you're too drunk to figure out an ATM, you'll never manage to pay your cabbie. Tough lesson.

No time to blog -- watching TBS

Taking on a holiday tradition

I've hated this cartoon for as long as I can remember. But because for years I haven't been able to remember why, I decided to watch the 1964 made-for-TV classic "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer" last night on CBS.

While I'm pleased to report that my intense dislike of Hermey, Yukon Cornelius and the rest of the gang eased a bit, I will offer a handful of observations on why this cartoon rubbed me the wrong way as a kid.

Dentistry. Right off the bat, we learn that Hermey wants to be a dentist. I'm scared of dentists, so there you go.

The portrayal of Santa. He spends the first 45 minutes thin and whiny. Where's the bowl full of jelly, bud?

Production values. I think this cartoon may have been the forerunner of Japanimation, "Crapanimation." What's more, as if the constant breaking-out-into-song isn't bad enough ("Silver and Gold" comes to mind), the songs sound like they're being played on a hand-cranked phonograph.

Story arc. Even as a youngster, I could see plot holes a mile away. How can Santa gain so much weight in just one scene? Why does a Griffin rule the Isle of Misfit Toys? How does the abominable snow creature suddenly become a good guy at the end? Wasn't it fog, not a snowstorm, that led Santa to ask Rudolph to lead his sleigh?

So there you go. A reasoned defense of why this cartoon sucks. I challenge anyone to defend it.