Gregson Gregoolly is an award winning columnist who answers your questions about life, love and the pursuit of joyfulness. His column has appeared in every major newspaper in the country and has been translated into over fifteen thousand languages. Today Gregson tackles your magical Holiday questions.
My next door neighbor really goes all out with his Christmas lights. The only problem is the lights are really bright and set to really loud Christmas music. To top it off it attracts hordes of people to our neighborhood. It’s become a real nuisance. I want to ask him to stop but I don’t want to be a Grinch. What should I do?
Annoyed in Annapolis
Annoyed, I know how you feel. I had a neighbor just like this a few years ago, but rather than be a Scrooge, I decided to get in on the action and create an even bigger Holiday spectacular. My advice to you is to dig a giant pit in your front yard and fill it with dead reindeer. Setup colored spotlights with at least five million candle power pointed directly at your neighbor’s house. Rent large loudspeakers and pump the sounds of mating walrus at four hundred decibels. Pour gas into your pit and light it on fire. Trust me when the lights, grunting and the smell of burning reindeer fur fills your neighbor’s home, he’ll get your subtle hint to tone his Christmas show down a little.
My daughter Katie is five years old this Christmas so my husband and I decided to do the Elf on a Shelf thing. Only problem is we forgot to feed the elf and he died. Help!
S.O.S in S.L.C.
Your problem is you used a real Elf. Those things are voracious eaters and if they skip one meal they die, trust me I know first-hand how awkward it can be when your kid finds the elf dead under the Christmas tree. Go to the store and get the official Elf on the Shelf. Those elves have been prepared by a professional taxidermist. They are safe and effective and the best part is you don’t have to feed them.
I saw my mommy kissing Santa Claus underneath the mistletoe last year. My parents have been married for over twenty years. If my Dad found out it could ruin their marriage. What if it happens again? Should I tell my Dad?
Torn in Toronto
Don’t worry about telling your Dad. Santa does a lot of kissing and other things with many a bored housewife and he’s not exactly safe about it either. Just wait for the inevitable STD to form on your mommy’s lips and your Dad will definitely know. Best part is you don’t have to be the bad guy.
I’ve never actually seen Santa Claus. How do I know he really exists?
Wanting To Believe in Baltimore
I bet you’ve never seen Bigfoot, Elvis or Space Aliens either. Nobody questions Bigfoot’s existence when they see his muddy footprints. When a pair of shaved sideburns magically appears in the shower drain do you not assume that Elvis was there? When you wake up with a foreign object in your butt and no memories of how it happened, Space Aliens are the only logical culprits. Trust me he’s real. Have a little faith. If you don’t believe me just ask Jesus.
I’m a Gingerbread Man. My family and I live in a quiet gated community. Recently my neighborhood has undergone some diversification. Many of my new neighbors don’t share my same beliefs in frosting and gumdrops. Most of them were made with different ingredients and aren’t even from the oven of my birth. I’m afraid my neighborhood is losing its identity. Any advice?
Gloomy in Gingerbread Glen
Gloomy, relax, if there’s one thing I know it’s that we are all made of different ingredients. That is what makes this world so incredible. You should be celebrating diversity not fearing it. It’s only when we realize that despite differing beliefs in frosting and gum drops, or the fact that some of us were made with one cup of sugar and some of us were made with two, it doesn’t matter. At the end of the day we are all Gingerbread Men. Open your heart and you won’t be disappointed.
I live in the Arctic Circle and lately a large male polar bear has been wandering into my backyard on almost a nightly basis. How should I deal with this?
Not Sure in Nome
Walk right up to him, extend your hand and offer him a Coke. Polar Bears love that stuff. Let me know how it goes.
My husband and I have been married for over twenty years. We fell in love over Christmas, but this year I can’t get his candy cane anywhere near my Christmas cookie. I’ve tried everything, dressing it up as Mrs. Claus, inviting my girlfriend to join in with her Christmas cookie, even offering a little Christmas fudge action, but I get no results. I’m desperate to reconnect with my hubby. Help me please!
Desperate in Des Moines
Sometimes after a couple has been married for a long time, especially twenty years, the passion for baking sweet, sweet, Christmas treats dies down. Try to remember exactly what it was that made him fall in love with you all those years ago and bring that back into the mix. I’m sure he just needs to be reminded of how sweet your cookie can be.
My grandpa thinks that Miracle on 34th St. is the best Christmas movie ever made. My mom thinks, It’s A Wonderful Life is the best. I think Santa Claus the Movie is tops. Can you settle this debate for me?
Arguing in Aberdeen
The correct answer is Die Hard.
That’s all for Ask Gregson Christmas Edition. Gregson wishes you and your family a safe and happy holidays. Gregson will be back for the super bowl of advice columns, Valentines Day. Until then, Merry Christmas and Yippee-Kay-Ay Mother Fuckers!