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By Jack Godbey

Contributing Columnist

If there’s something to be said about the joys of Christmas, it’s that people seem to act the way they should be acting all year long. No, I’m not talking about the excessive spending on gifts that no one wants to begin with. I’m also not talking about the stress of spending hours trying to untangle the strings of lights that we string across the house. I’m talking about the way that people suddenly start to give money to feed the homeless. The way that we volunteer our time to help the less fortunate during Christmas time is something we should be doing all year long. After all, the homeless and poor don’t just need to eat on Christmas. If they are like me, they like three square meals every day of the year. However, we find a way not to care the rest of the year.

One fact about Christmas is that there are delicious desserts everywhere we turn. I walked into the break room at work the other day and there was a huge pan of peanut butter fudge just sitting there for the taking. It was then that I began to sing the praises of Christmas.  I’ve never seen anyone offer me fudge on July 4th or Memorial Day, just saying.

That reminds me of the time I accidentally got my co-worker drunk on Christmas. Back in those days, I was working 3rd shift and our job was one where the show had to go on, Christmas or not. As we sat feeling sorry for ourselves as the clock struck midnight and ushering in the official arrival of Christmas day, I remembered that I had brought some peanut butter balls from home. I had been to a Christmas party earlier in the evening and I scooped up some of the tasty treats for later.

As soon as I brought them out, I had to go take care of some urgent business that came up and I told my co-worker to help himself to all of the peanut butter balls that he wanted. About an hour later, I came back to find the entire dish of candy was nearly gone and my co-worker had his T-Shirt tied around his head and was singing Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer at the top of his lungs. I knew I worked with some characters, but I was still a bit shocked as to what was going on.

I could smell the stench of whiskey on the breath of my co-worker, and he had a half-eaten peanut butter ball in his hand. He must have eaten 15 or 20 in the time that I was gone. I picked up one of the few remaining pieces of candy and realized what had happened. I had grabbed what I thought was peanut butter balls, but they were actually bourbon balls. My co-worker who didn’t drink alcohol at all, was light work for the bourbon balls that were so strong they smelled like the inside of a distillery. To me, whiskey is a lot like coffee. It smells like it would taste great, but it doesn’t.

It took me several hours and several pots of coffee to get him straighten up. As he sat there with an ice pack on his now pounding head, he asked me what had happened. I knew this situation called for truth and honesty. However, that’s not the path that I took. Instead, I suggested that he must have eaten some bad food or something. I had completed all his work for him, and he got to spend Christmas blitzed out of his mind. Your welcome man, your welcome.