Weird In The Afternoon

Late last November, when the yuletide spirit was just beginning to slither over the far horizon, not yet noticeable enough to change anyone’s basic surly attitude but still making its presence felt, subliminally, via the piney green crowding the peripheral vision of hapless shoppers in department stores and the swift but deadly assault of the occasional Mr. Microphone commercial over the airwaves, I had the occasion, the extremely stupid painful opportunity, to drop a Christmas tree on my foot.