Greed ‘n Guns – a Very Palin Christmas

The reason we are launching ourselves a couple pages ahead on the calendar to talk about Christmas, is to celebrate one of those very special holiday events – an event that has only happened twice before, and of which this blog has felt compelled to comment.

That’s right kiddos, our former ex-half-governor has written another “book.”

She’s figured out that politics is kinda hard, so her books have gone from fantabiography, to fantahistory, and now to that despised and maligned holiday that’s about to go the way of the dodo because of liberals and communists, and “politically correct Scrooges,” and people of other religions, and also too atheists. They’re all Heck-bent on destroying a good time, dontcha know.

And in addition to book genre, her publishing house has evolved likewise from Harper Collins to Broadside Books, publishers of such literary magnum opuses as “How to Fix Everything in America Forever – The Plan to Keep America Awesome,” “The 12-Step Guide for the Recovering Obama Voter,” and “The Lizard King – The Shocking Insider Account of Obama’s True Intergalactic Ambitions by An Anonymous Whitehouse Staffer.”

Sarah Palin will now add her impressive authorship to this fine array of titles. So, what else does she possibly have to say after “Going Rogue” and “America by Heart?”  Well, as true Christians, Sarah Palin and her family, want to keep the X in Xmas, and defend it from Godless heathenry, and secular secularism which is also politically correct, and so – the “book.”

If the thought of the book’s existence isn’t enough to make you slam your open hands against your face and drag them downward slowly, pulling down the lower lids of your eyes, and making your mouth do a nice seasonal Halloween grimace, then prepare yourself.

It’s available as an AUDIObook.

There’s even a sample, available on the Amazon page, for those who want to hear Sarah tell about her family’s Christmas traditions using her very own voice – which is kind of like taking the warm spicy cloves from the fragrant Christmas ham and jamming them into your ears one at a time until they’re all gone.

Here is the audio, and a transcription for those with a weak stomach and/or ears that are prone to bleeding. My comments, as per my usual technique are in red.

[soundcloud url=”https://api.soundcloud.com/tracks/117965934″ width=”100%” height=”166″ iframe=”true” /]

…occasionally startling a moose or passing caribou further north, and hoping the kids in the back keep up.

Yes, they started mid-sentence, apparently just to include the words “moose” and “caribou” and the fact that she sure hopes the kids in the back keep up, because, you know… trampling.

As governor, I was able to see even more jaw-dropping vistas throughout Alaska, but the most beautiful scenes are the ones I’ve taken in through the lenses of my snowmachine goggles.

When we arrive at the homes of our friends and families, we frequently play Eskimo Bingo, a gift-swapping game, and the only time we enthusiastically encourage the kids to be greedy!  

Oh, this could be bad…

And I’m calling “nuh-uh” right now on the greedy thing. Remember Piper Palin’s lemonade stand in Juneau? Where she advertised the money for charity and immediately regretted it? This is from Sarah Palin’s very own email regarding Lemonade Stand 2.0 after saying she didn’t blame her daughter for wanting to bogard the money for herself. Screw the March of Dimes.

“And pip’s planning the stand again for the next sunny day… She made $44 for March of Dimes at the last one. This time she says she’s keeping the $. Very cool.”

Everyone brings a wrapped gift for exchange and places it on the floor. With the timer ticking, we roll dice in a pie pan and hope to get doubles so the gift grabbing can begin. Each person gets to steal presents from the center of our circle, even ones already nabbed.

Let me get this right. This game is called ESKIMO BINGO and is just like regular, non-Eskimo bingo except it has no chips, or cards, or calling out numbers, and involves the encouragement of greed, gift grabbing, and stealing from one another.

This might sound like a fun parlor game, but it gets intense.

No, actually it sounds like a fun racist holiday Bingo game, and family tradition which could easily be called “a fun gift swapping game” but maybe that’s just me.

When someone unwraps something good and places it on the floor, even for a moment, it’s fair game.

You know those Eskimos.

One year a particularly coveted box of homemade chocolates from a bakery in Indiana caused us to play well into the night.

Could THIS have been the famous box of chocolates that arrived on the Governor’s birthday and enticed her to abandon the state while her nominee for Attorney General went down in flames, and she jetted off to give a speech to a Right to Life group? Well, that and a hockey stick.

Yes, I have way too much information in my head. But here it is.

I ended up without one, because I’m the mom and I refused to let the game end, until it ended well. Some years I’ve ended up with one of the gag gifts – a singing fish wall plaque, a dusty old fossil from Dad’s garage shelf, a tin sign that reads, “Gimme a beer, the inlaws are here.”

Only to Sarah Palin would a fossil be a “gag gift.” I mean… science?  Pffft. Dad might have even tried to convince her it was more than 6,000 years old. Nice try, pops. And as far as that tin sign goes, if things had worked out differently, it might have been a good gift for Levi.

But Todd makes sure my real Christmas gifts are amazing. He’s always given good gifts.

When we were 17, and my friends had already received Polo sweaters, the newest GoGos vinyl record, or Gloria Vanderbilt jeans from their boyfriends, Todd surprised me with a traditional Eskimo grass woven basket and Alaska gold nugget earrings from a Native village near his home town.

I’m only a few years younger than Sarah Palin, and I used to be a teenage girl, and I really can’t think of a single teenage boy who gave me or anyone I knew a pair of jeans for Christmas. But Todd did well, and the clever mention of the Eskimo grass basket proves that the whole Eskimo Bingo greedy theft game was really meant in a culturally respectful way.

In that tradition, he has since given me a beautiful red, manual ice auger for ice fishing on the lake, a 30.06 rifle, a pair of hockey skates, snowshoes for hard core winter workouts, and cords of seasoned spruce for my fireplace.

So, in the tradition of romantic gold earrings and an artistically hand made Native craft, he gave her a gun, a tool, athletic equipment, and… wood. Got it.

I so appreciate that one, as I have an unusual affinity for chopping and stacking my own wood. As the old saying goes, “chop your own wood, and it’ll warm you twice.”

She loves chopping her own wood, so she really appreciated not having to chop her own wood. What. You thought that suddenly anything she said would have any logic or make sense? They’re WORDS people. That should be enough for you.

No  Christmas lilies or lavender bubble bath in the stocking from this Dude. No, sir. He’s as unique as his gifts. I’ve tried to reciprocate with thoughtful presents but all Todd wants is the same thing –

What could it be? What does Todd want every year? Haven’t we already covered every possible stereotypical Alaskan thing in these few paragraphs?  Not quite! We’re missing something…

…gift cards for gas to keep his snowmachine, truck, and float plane topped off.

Petroleum!

I love that he’s easy to please.

Hey, no kidding. Between the cord of wood and the gas card, you could shop on Christmas Eve night at the Chevron convenience store and be done in like four minutes!

Last year, however, I think I was able to pull off a good one for him.

Oooo, what did she get him? What thoughtful gift did she use to surprise Todd and, as the book jacket promises, “preserve the heart of Christmas?”

To combat the anti-gun chatter coming from Washington, I surprised him with a nice, needed, powerful gun.

I then asked him for a metal gun holder for my 4-wheeler. Not only was this small act of civil disobedience fun, it allowed me to finally live out one of my favorite lines from a country song, “He’s got the rifle, I’ve got the rack.”

The Prince of Peace would cast a super special benificent sunbeam upon that gift since it served the primary purpose of Christmas – the spirit of combatting liberals by bestowing upon our loved one an instrument of death. *sniff*

And get it? Get it? “RACK?” *nudge nudge, wink wink* Oh, man. She slays me with her Christmas-time boob humor. But she’s always had that particular brand of razor-sharp wit. Even back in college.

“I may be broke, but I’m not flat busted.” That one never gets old.

But it goes without saying that one of the most enjoyable parts about Christmas has always been giving gifts to the children. There’s nothing like watching their sleepy eyes turn wide when they see the presents under the tree. When Track and Bristol were little, I was overflowing with energy and all those new mom ideas, so I decided to lead them to their gifts gradually by creating Christmas scavenger hunts. I’d give them the first clue in their stockings, which would lead them to the second clue, which would lead them to the third.

Hey, kids! It’s under the TREE!

It was delightful to see their growing anticipation as they got closer to their big present which might have been

You know what’s coming!

…a BB gun, a doll, or the perfect lunch box – anything besides new underwear and more wool socks. Yes, the scavenger hunt added a little adventure to the already amazing day. Would you believe that more than 20 years later, this tradition still lives on in the Palin household. Even though the kids are now receiving electronics and clothes instead of Hot Wheels, I still create a labyrinth of clues for the Christmas morning gift hunts. I love tradition, but I have to admit it’s kicking my butt. I’ve hidden clues in every cookie jar,

How many do they HAVE?

…out in the wood pile, on the gate, under chunks of wild game in the freezer,

Yes, that was said.

“Dear Piper, For your next clue, look under the packet of frozen moose tongue in the chest freezer in the garage.”

…on the truck’s trailer hitch, even on the dog’s collar.

Under the dog’s collar? Unless they have recently become dog people, they must mean AGIA the dog, named after the Alaska Gasline Inducement Act. Neither one worked out, the gasline or the dog.  The former will cost the state $500 million, and the latter was given away.

 Not only have I run out of good hiding places, but I’m sure the kids are still absolutely annoyed they have to spend those cold, cold Christmas mornings searching high and low for their next clue.

Well, that’s what Christmas traditions are all about. Where’s that special feeling of the holiday if you can’t listen to mom whine and complain about having to create these stupid scavenger hunts for 20 years, and know that the kids hate it too – and pay $14.99 on Amazon to listen to it all. Kinda makes me want to have an eggnog. The kind that’s mostly rum.

Well, that’s it for now kids. We’ll have more later for your holiday reading pleasure.

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