Merry Christmas!
Wait, I don't want to offend anyone.
Merry Christmas to ALL!
There we go.
You know, when the Sears Roebuck Corporation invented Christmas in 1936 they didn't intend for it to just be a day of high volume purchasing, they also meant for it to be a day of love and togetherness. A day that would bring out the best in everyone: whether they shopped at Sears or not. That's why all of the characters they invented, like Frosty and Santa and that woman who could have a baby without having sex first, and White Jesus and Black Green Lantern...that's why they all exemplify that spirit of hope and joy and... And sacrifice. And that's what this story is about -
The Story of The Most Amazing Christmas Sweater I've Ever Seen.
Now, The Christmas Sweater plays a very important part in the fabric of American culture. From Maine to Florida, from California to Delaware, from Target to Walmart, all across this great country, the Christmas Sweater represents the sacrifices we are all willing to make for family. In this case, the sacrifice of looking like a fool to make the person who bought you the sweater happy. Now, make no mistake. The person who bought you the sweater knows this. It's not that they have terrible taste in clothing. It's that they are consciously choosing to put you through an ordeal to prove your love. Wear the sweater and you have passed through these flames unscathed. Refuse to wear the sweater, and you have planted the seed of the story behind "why Uncle Ian isn't allowed to Grandma's place for Thanksgiving."
Usually the Christmas Sweater is simple in its ugliness:
A brown sweater with a big white snowflake on it. Simple. Ugly.
A white sweater with a big banana split sewn onto it. And on the banana, the words "Merry Splitsmas". Slightly more complex. No less insidious.
A red sweater with a big blue teddy bear on it. And the eyes of the bear. Are made. Of jingle bells. Why? And why is there a big palm tree behind the teddy bear? WHY.
I could go on describing various other Christmas sweaters, but you get the picture.
This is about the
Most Amazing Christmas Sweater I've Ever Seen. The Christmas sweater that, if you are ever given, the wearing of which would make the person who gave it to you indebted to you for life. I know that last sentence was awkward but it is hard not to sound awkward when talking about this sweater.
I still remember the time I saw it. A few years back I was window shopping with my girlfriend one Saturday afternoon at Grapevine Mills in Dallas, TX. It's like Franklin Mills but Texas. So Steak and God and America and Ranch Dressing. We had just had one of those silly arguments only a truly loving couple can have, you know, like about whether or not one of us had said they wanted to eat lunch, and about whether or not that had been a basic statement of hunger or was meant to make the other person feel guilty for wanting to leave the dinner party early the night before, and whether or not that person had really wanted to leave the dinner party early or whether that was just an excuse the other person used because they wanted to catch the end of a certain sports entertainment event on tv. You know, one of those silly arguments truly loving couples can have. Anyway, I was having a hard time seeing out of my right eye now, because of where she had punched me, and I stumbled into a sweater store. It was one of those tiny boutiques that only a person with a trust fund could possibly keep in business. A place that says "I am not here to make money, I am here to have a place to sit that is not my apartment." You know the kind of place. One woman. One item. There was just one sweater on display. Just one. The rest of the store was completely empty and smelled of espresso though there was no coffee machine there. And I could not take my eye off of the sweater.
The sweater was navy blue, with bright red shoulders and green sleeves. At the neck and cuffs, padded suede. The sweater was thick and hearty like a potato stew, but warm and snuggly like a fabric softener commercial. Its many knotted cables twisted around one another like ivy made of wool, tendrils upon tendrils of slightly scratchy but oh so soft plushness. Flecks of color seemed to dart to and fro within the sweater's navy blue depths, like tiny playful woolen sea creatures drifting through the waves of quality knitting. But this was all secondary to the amazing design on the chest of the sweater, an intricate design that had been wrought from white, grey, and five shades of beige. It was a design of unparalleled complexity. Two reindeers, rearing back on their hind legs, their front hooves touching, and their antlers locked as if in a majestic mating ritual. A mating ritual their parents would surely have disapproved of, seeing as both reindeer were clearly male. The intricate criss-crossing of their many branch-like antlers formed the central image of a giant snowflake. But wait, it wasn't just a snowflake, it was also...a star. A very special star to be precise, for under that massive star, was a snowman nativity scene. Three wise snowmen bearing gifts for a tiny snow baby in a snow manger surrounded by snow animals. And above it all, above the reindeer and the antlersnowflakestar, flew Santa Claus himself, riding not in a sleigh, but in that cool flying car from the 'Back To The Future' movies. And those weren't nine reindeer tethered to Santa's Delorean, it was the starting lineup of the best baseball team of all time, the 1927 New York Yankees! On Combs! On Koenig! On Ruth and Gehrig! On Meusel and Lazzeri and Dugan and Collins! Wait, that's only eight. On back-up catcher Johnny Grabowski!
There we go. And in the hands of each Yankee was a laser pistol, which they were firing at the many attacking Tie-fighters. And that's what the sweater looked like. At least that's what the sweater looked like if you only glanced at it briefly. If you took a close look at it, you soon realized that that reindeer-snow-manger-Santa-Yankee-space-battle was just scratching the surface of an even more complicated design. The details were mind-boggling. Santa's beard, for example. It wasn't just a beard, it was also a fluffy cloud, on which three angels with lifesaver candy halos and harps made of licorice made snow angels. Made of cloud. The door of the Delorean had been keyed, probably by a jealous Rudolph as he spitefully eyed Lou Gehrig's glowing nose from afar. The interlocking N and Y on the Yankees' caps were made of a ballerina and a toy soldier. The humps of the snow camel in the snow nativity scene were actually ski slopes down which the Muppets were skiing, and those Muppets were dressed like your favorite characters from The Love Boat. The snow baby Jesus was giggling. Dammit, even though the snow baby Jesus was made from chunky, fuzzy wool, and even though that wool was all clumped up to represent snow, the detail was there. Jesus was giggling. And why was he giggling?
The answer was right over his head in a cartoon thought bubble, where key scenes from the 'Soup Nazi' episode of Seinfeld were playing out. And there, forming the background of the entire sweater, behind it all, impossible to see close-up but clear as day if you stared at the sweater from a distance, was Mount Rushmore. And George Washington was winking.
I cannot think of a good reason for having told you that tale, other than this: if someone you love, or who it is in your best interest to say you love in order to avoid the hassle of a family squabble, gives you a Christmas sweater, wear it. And thank the character that The Sears Robucks Corporation named God that it's not even close to as amazing as the sweater I've just described. May Black Jesus and White Green Lantern bless you all this Christmas!
I still remember the time I saw it. A few years back I was window shopping with my girlfriend one Saturday afternoon at Grapevine Mills in Dallas, TX. It's like Franklin Mills but Texas. So Steak and God and America and Ranch Dressing. We had just had one of those silly arguments only a truly loving couple can have, you know, like about whether or not one of us had said they wanted to eat lunch, and about whether or not that had been a basic statement of hunger or was meant to make the other person feel guilty for wanting to leave the dinner party early the night before, and whether or not that person had really wanted to leave the dinner party early or whether that was just an excuse the other person used because they wanted to catch the end of a certain sports entertainment event on tv. You know, one of those silly arguments truly loving couples can have. Anyway, I was having a hard time seeing out of my right eye now, because of where she had punched me, and I stumbled into a sweater store. It was one of those tiny boutiques that only a person with a trust fund could possibly keep in business. A place that says "I am not here to make money, I am here to have a place to sit that is not my apartment." You know the kind of place. One woman. One item. There was just one sweater on display. Just one. The rest of the store was completely empty and smelled of espresso though there was no coffee machine there. And I could not take my eye off of the sweater.
There we go. And in the hands of each Yankee was a laser pistol, which they were firing at the many attacking Tie-fighters. And that's what the sweater looked like. At least that's what the sweater looked like if you only glanced at it briefly. If you took a close look at it, you soon realized that that reindeer-snow-manger-Santa-Yankee-space-battle was just scratching the surface of an even more complicated design. The details were mind-boggling. Santa's beard, for example. It wasn't just a beard, it was also a fluffy cloud, on which three angels with lifesaver candy halos and harps made of licorice made snow angels. Made of cloud. The door of the Delorean had been keyed, probably by a jealous Rudolph as he spitefully eyed Lou Gehrig's glowing nose from afar. The interlocking N and Y on the Yankees' caps were made of a ballerina and a toy soldier. The humps of the snow camel in the snow nativity scene were actually ski slopes down which the Muppets were skiing, and those Muppets were dressed like your favorite characters from The Love Boat. The snow baby Jesus was giggling. Dammit, even though the snow baby Jesus was made from chunky, fuzzy wool, and even though that wool was all clumped up to represent snow, the detail was there. Jesus was giggling. And why was he giggling? 
The answer was right over his head in a cartoon thought bubble, where key scenes from the 'Soup Nazi' episode of Seinfeld were playing out. And there, forming the background of the entire sweater, behind it all, impossible to see close-up but clear as day if you stared at the sweater from a distance, was Mount Rushmore. And George Washington was winking.
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