A Canadian Christmas Day joke.

Last Thursday at my vision support group party, a number of jokes were told. Two had a distinctly Canadian flavour, though I only want to write about one of them (because the other one mentions the current Canadian Prime Minister - ugh).

So, I've changed bits and pieces here and there.

It just so happened that three Canadian men died on Christmas Day. When they arrived at Heaven's gates, Saint Peter looked them over - carefully - and sighed. But, as it was Christmas Day, and he was feeling generous, he told the men that, if they could produce something - anything - that was relevant to the Christmas story, then they'd be welcomed into Heaven.

The first man, a Newfoundlander who'd been a heavy smoker, pulled out the lighter in his shirt pocket. He flicked it on and gleefully pointed out it represented the star that the wise men had followed to bring them to the manger. Saint Peter sighed but had no choice but to allow him to pass through the gates.

The second man, from B.C., had been a busy executive who'd never slowed down to relax. He pulled out his smartphone (naturally it was the latest model), fumbled around with the touchscreen, then held it up so Saint Peter could hear ... a jingling bell. He pointed out the bell represented Santa's sleigh delivering presents to children all over the world. Saint Peter sighed - again - because he was tired of the attention that ~other~ Saint was getting, obscuring the real meaning of Christmas, though the presents were representations of the gifts from the wise men to baby Jesus. So Saint Peter waved a weary hand and allowed him in.

The third man was an odd fellow, dressed in a plaid flannel shirt, hair unkempt. He had this guilty, furtive look on his face, but finally pulled out a pair of women's lace panties from his hip pocket. Saint Peter didn't think his eyebrows could go any higher, but he waited for an explanation ... ANY explanation. Finally, the man grinned shyly and said, "They're Carol's." Then the man turned to face away from Saint Peter and said, "I'm Mike ... from Canmore."

The last part is my tribute to John Morgan (the creator of Mike, from Canmore, Alberta, as well as many other unique characters) who died in 2004. He'd been a long-time member of Royal Canadian Air Farce, a thoroughly Canadian institution that had started out as a radio broadcast (which I'd listened to in the early 70s) then transitioned into a TV show. It was canceled a few years ago (boo, hiss), but I still have many fond memories of some of their outrageous skits, usually jabbing at the Canadian political scene.

The turkey's not the only thing that was stuffed, because....

Ow-ow-ow-ow. Okay, okay, so I may be exaggerating, just a bit, but I had a fabulous Christmas Day dinner. Up at 8:30 (with the alarm, having fallen asleep with my hair scrunchie STILL on), I had tourtière for brekkie. I was thrilled I managed to find ALL of my traditional Christmas Day components: the red satin blouse and self-tie, the stained glass top, my jingle bell and the gold chain it's worn on. As a bonus, I even found the best hair clip I have (and last year's volunteer badge, lol).

My deacon friend picked me up at 12:30. It was a clear (yay, NO snow) day out. But we ended up NOT missing an accident on the highway, so were held up a little. But we still showed up at church with plenty of time to spare. So, the special entertainer who was supposed to lead us in carols was our amazing (and apparently indefatigable) music director, Diane. After all she did for last night, I couldn't believe she had the energy to show up. As I couldn't sing, I jingled my bell to the music.

I joined a bunch of old-timers at the first table closest to the servery. [Hey, not stupid here.] I sat with Frits, Uncle Ernie, Drew (we call each other "Little One" from TNG) and Jan. The deacon who was running the whole thing had a massive elf network running around getting everything ready. There were white tablecloths with a festive border, at least three different plate colours, and both red and clear candle holders on all of the tables. But - eek - I forgot to bring my own cutlery and had to deal with plastic. ::sighs::

There was loads of food, from platters of grapes, sweet and juicy pineapple, segmented tangerines, to several salads, shredded dark turkey meat (I don't care for breast meat usually), two types of baked ham, lots and lots of stuffing with gravy, smashed 'taters, mixed veggies, puréed sweet 'taters, a couple of squash dishes (for which there was no more room on the plate) and finally one of the three homemade cranberry sauces. Plus a glass of citrus punch. [Yes, I can hear Rodney McKay screeching across the table!] After my first plate (!!!) I went back for slight seconds: a bit more of the smaller ham pieces (so tender), the dregs of turkey meat, more mixed veggies (cooked perfectly), more stuffing with gravy and cranberry sauce.

After the second plate, I could tell that I was approaching swallowing problems (Rodney's saying "I told you so" about the punch), so managed to save room for just a cup of coffee with loads of milk. Then I was shocked to find my driver had shown up - more than THIRTY MINUTES EARLY!!! Hey, that's so not fair. But one of the dessert elves was brilliant: he made up a plate of desserts for the driver, so I had time to at least sit and enjoy myself a little while longer, during which there was a team game on stage going on. One of the other elves made me up a huge dessert plate which I brought home.

When I got in, I had some Coke, the little treats from Thursday afternoon (must ask Greg if he and/or his wife baked them) and a glass of eggnog. I e-mailed Brian twice - before and after I opened his prezzies. Hee - he must be the only person in the world who would give me a gigantic bottle of Vitamin C as a gift (in a wine gift bag). I also got S2 of Glee. Yippee! And Gleeeeeee-Squeeeeeee!!!!! But I did mention I don't have S1, so I hope I can (with his help) find a copy on sale this week or next.

Anyway, after a long and stuffed but very happy day, I've had a nap and am now approaching pain-killer levels. Yeah, talk about "traditional" including my old ::shudders:: buddy, pain. Well, I'll swallow them accompanied by more eggnog. And that's ALL she wrote!