Eight years ago my non-belief in Christianity forced me give Christmas a miss, although I sent presents to my kids and wives, raised a few glasses to Xmas, and wished to my ancient father Happy Holidays. I did not travel to Boston for the family gathering nor call up friends in NY to seek a sumptuous meal. My vow to disavow Christmas was sacrosanct and I didn’t even leave my apartment on December 25.

I thought about it for a few seconds, but the rain and a raging hangover enforced my edict to the letter.

No gifts, no Christmas carols, no Zuzu in Frank Capra’s seasonal offering IT’S A WONDERFUL LIFE.

This rejection of the holiday was considered dangerous by most. Solitude can lead to too much looking in the mirror, however I cooked a garlic pasta with sole and never heard the name of the Judeo-Christian god, who was actually born sometime in May. The December date was chosen by early Christian to compete with the birth of the sun god Mithras, thereby screwing up anyone born in December from getting a true birthday since Jesus was more important than any human.

Not to me anymore.

Not for a long time.

And this year Barack Obama recognized my non-belief in his inauguration speech.

“Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, and non-believers.”

Damn, I had never heard the hyphenated word ‘non-believer’ uttered by a president or national leader unless it was a declaration of a crusade against us.

So thank you everyone for freeing me from the spell of Christmas.

I’m no Scrooge or Grinch, but I like to worship peace and on this Xmas I did nothing, but that.

Doing nothing’s my greatest skill.

FYI; The 1st Santa was St. Nicholas of Smyrna.

He remains the patron saint of beer.

Happy Beermas.

Has a nice ring to it, eh?