I am going to take time off in an attempt to enjoy the Yuletide Season.
That's right. Attempt. Things aren't good for me right now. In fact, that might be understatement. But whenever I'm feeling miserable at this time of the year, I think of a dispatch from Edward R. Murrow in London in the early years of World War II. It goes something like this:
"Christmas Day began in London nearly an hour ago. The church bells did not ring at midnight. When they ring again, it will be to announce invasion. And if they ring, the British are ready. Tonight, as on every other night, the rooftop watchers are peering out across the fantastic forest of London's chimney pots. The antiaircraft gunners stand ready. And all along the coast of the island, the observers revolve in their reclining chairs, listening for the sound of German planes. The firefighters and the ambulance drivers are waiting, too. The blackout stretches from Birmingham to Bethlehem, but tonight over Britain the skies are clear.
This is not a Merry Christmas in London. I heard that phrase on twice in the last three days."
So that's my moment of depressed bokketo. Have a happy.