Tossing Salt Presents:
12 (Dougie) Days of Christmas – Day 5
Teletubbies, Press, Mirrors & Reflections, and Playing Santa.
DougMaynard.com
Doug Maynard

It’s already Day 5. Where has the time gone? I’m Doug, and this is the 12 (Dougie) Days of Christmas. I’ll bet nobody thought that I’d last this long. Well, it’s five down and only seven more to go. Ho Ho Ho! So, should I make small talk first or get straight to the Magic Bag and the infamous topics of discussion?

I guess an update on my immersion into the HBO Chamber would be good. I went and did it earlier today (Monday). And I go back tomorrow to do it again. I watched MAS*H and Bonanza while sucking in the pure oxygen. I think tomorrow, we need to change the channels. I like Hawkeye, BJ, Radar, and the stories from the 4077 unit. But watching Adam, Hoss, Ben, and Little Joe shoot everyone for an hour, was just way too much for me. I didn’t like Bonanza when I was a kid and that hasn’t changed. I’ll just watch Animal Planet or Dr. Phil instead.

And aside from that, everything is just the same shit, different toilet. I’m always alone, I hate my life, and Mom is getting more and more insane each and every day. And my truck is acting up. I need it to get the doctor’s every day, but I also need to take it to get the radiator checked. And the power steering. It’s 30 years old, so problems are to be expected, but despite using Radiator Seal, my radiator is leaking, plus the truck gets the shakes after a certain speed. I’ll get it to the shop later this week. I can miss a day of HBO for a good reason. Keeping a reliable ride is a good reason. Why don’t I know any good, reliable mechanics that can come to the house? I used to know plenty, but most of those now are not reliable or I wouldn’t want them near my house. Oy vey! I’m getting a headache.

Let’s go to the Magic Bag and draw out a few topics to write about. That always makes me feel better. The topics of discussion for today are Teletubbies, Press, and Mirrors & Reflections. This one might get a bit deep at times. But it’s Day 5 of the 12 (Dougie) Days of Christmas so I’ll allow it. Are you ready? Let’s go.

Teletubbies

Do you remember these demonic creatures from the pits of hell who used to be on PBS, worshipped a baby in the sun, and carried purses to promote freaky behavior and scare children? I remember them semi-well. I never had to watch the Teletubbies because I was fortunate enough that when I used to look after small children, my step-brother kids and the coolest Mini-Me on the planet, my bro-son’s little man, none of them like the Teletubbies. I seem to remember Kayden saying, ‘They’re gay!” I may be wrong about who said it, but damn, those four freaky furries gave us real gay people a bad name. They were embarrassing.

Can you even remember their names? Tinky Winky, Dipsy, Laa Laa, and Po. Damn, they even sound gay, not that there is anything wrong with that. But this is a Children’s program. They seem more to belong hanging out with RuPaul and P Diddy than entertaining kids. They’re tele-creepy. I’m glad I never had to watch that show. They’re just weird. And British. And anything the British make tends to be weird. Don’t believe me? Peppa Pig. ‘Nuff said!

Press

So what press are we talking about? Is it to push as in press a button?
Is it to flatten, like being pressed to the ground? Or is it reporting the news and being a journalist, as in Freedom of the Press? Let’s go with the latter. I could use any of them, but I don’t want to press the issue. Let’s talk about the people who allegedly report the news and keep us informed of what they want us to know, the press.

Technically, I could claim to be a member of the Press. I work for and write for a website that provides information and knowledge to the public. Isn’t that what the press is supposed to do? I learn stuff and relay the information to those who come to my site. I’ve often claimed in the past to be an “internet wrestling journalist”, always followed by the statement, “Whatever the hell that is!”. But in fact, it’s true. By virtue of this platform that shares my name, I am technically just that, a journalist. Damn, that resume is filling up fast, isn’t it? Between the jobs and positions I’ve had, the jobs and positions I’ve been accused of having, and the titles I could technically claim, I’m a pretty important dude. So to all my haters who said I’d never be anything, PRESS THIS, bitches! I need to do a press conference. Maybe one day. I need to go let the dog out first. Boo-yah!

Mirrors & Reflections

Mirrors are pieces of glass where you can see your reflection. Well, essentially you’re seeing what others physically see when they look at you. But is what they see and what you see the same thing? Is it just an image or is your true self and true reflection something totally different?

I’ve actually thought about this and what people see when they look at me. Do they see the stressed-out guy with anxiety bubbling to the edge and just seconds away from snapping? Do they see the lonely guy who wonders why he’s always alone, yet continues to push everyone away? Or do they see the pleasant dude with the quick wit, sarcastic to a fault, but still a cool dude? Do they see the real me or the me I put forth for public consumption? And which one is the real deal?

I can honestly say that when I look into the mirror, I see the wrinkles, the face needing a shave, the age and worry in the eyes, and the stress written on my face. Yet, when I’m with others, that seems to vanish and it’s another person sitting here. I’ve heard it said before from a person I was having a deep, intimate discussion with. We were both bitching about our lives and ourselves and he commented to me about what he sees when he looks at me and talks to me. What he said was describing a person I’ve never seen or met, but it’s what he sees and believes. And I described what I see when looking at him and he laughingly told me that I was full of shit! I guess it’s all about perception. Maybe one day, I’ll see the person that others see. Who knows?

And there you go. Damn, I just realized that I forgot to do a Christmas topic. I hate it when that happens. So, should I forget about it and maybe double up tomorrow, or go find a Christmas topic and do a quickie? I found a good topic in the Christmas Magic Bag. Let’s do one more for the road. It’s all about Playing Santa.

Playing Santa

I did it once. Way back when I was seventeen or eighteen, I was hired by a local store, where my Mom happened to be the manager of (go figure) to play the role of Santa Claus. I have a picture somewhere and I’ll use it in the featured pic for this blog. Imagine that. Me, in the red suit, fake beard, and letting creepy little kids sit on my lap. It was an interesting experience, kind of like ‘Nam, but with less rice and fewer bombs exploding. I don’t know why I volunteered and did it and I do know that I’ll never do it again, although now, with the belly, the gray hair, and the wrinkles in my face, not to mention my snazzy boots, I’m far more qualified and fitting than I was then. Every father should enjoy this role at least once in their life and since I’m not a dad, I guess that was my chance and shot at doing the “Ho Ho Ho” Santa thing. I gripe and get sarcastic talking about it, but it was actually one of the more interesting and pleasant jobs I had back then. I could tell stories, but I won’t. I don’t want any flashbacks or nightmares.

And now, with that, I’m out of here. Thanks for reading. I’ll be back tomorrow with Day Six, plus more exciting stories of laying in a glass tube and watching daytime TV. Be good, my friends, and I’ll see you on the other side.

Ubuntu!