SIgns of the Times, Issue No. 85 - 12/22/09

I hope Dr. Seuss doesn't sue me.

Greetings to one and all for this special Christmas edition of "Signs of the Times." By popular vote, this Issue will be written in the style of Dr. Seuss' eternal "The Grinch Who Stole Christmas." With no further ado, I present "The Aaron who stole Wednesday."

Every A down in A-Town liked Wednesday a lot

But the Aaron, who lived just north of A-Town, did not.

The Aaron hated Wednesday - the whole Wednesday idea.

Perhaps on a Wednesday he was hit by that deer.

It could be, perhaps, his headband was too tight.

It could be that Facebook wasn't working that night.

But I think that the reason which did the least Good:

There was one day each week that got misunderstood.

He looked at the calendar which hung on the wall

And he saw it was Tuesday, the best day of all.

As he rested his chin on the top of some shelves,

He wondered if others Felt Good About Themselves.

To the window he slunk like a sneekering zoar,

Saw all the snow fall, banged his head on the door.

"Why, Tuesday? Why would you be littered with white?

You know that that people hate being cold, right?"

"I must change the world and make all people happy!"

The Aaron was tired and wanted a nappy.

"They must all Feel Good or I won't ever rest.

For Tuesday is the one day that I like the best."

For 24 hours we'll all Feel fine

And the other six days we can lay back and whine.

With his hands on the glass he tapped them fast, drumming.

"There must be a way I can stop Wednesday from coming."

So he hiked to his room, down the stairs to Club Jive

Where he'd sit and he'd ponder how he'd stay alive.

He plopped on his bed with his face in his hand

And he wished he could bring "Feeling Good" to this land.

But with so many people all sick and depressed,

Unknown was the remedy that would suit them all best.

Then a noise hit the wall and it rang in his ear

It made the poor Aaron stand up for to hear.

"BOOOOOO-hoo!!" cried the A's from their homes in A-Town.

Something had just happened and it made them all frown.

It was Wednesday or Thursday, it occurred last week

And the Aaron's sweet mother was the first voice to speak.

"What is this strange email I've got in my snoker?

Is my son a pervert? Or is he a joker?"

Word traveled fast and it spread through the land

That the Aaron had sent something he couldn't have planned.

This came as a shock, for he meant no such harm.

But the A's down in A-Town quickly sounded the alarm.

They sent out their honkers. They sent out their wooskies.

If he's using Viagra, does he also drink brewskies?

"He's losing his mind," thought the A's. "This is jacked."

(In reality, his email had somehow been hacked.)

But they set up spam blockers, the place was all copped.

The Aaron's Newsletter would have to be stopped.

In a matter of hours, the Aaron took action -

Something that would bring them a sound satisfaction.

He set up a new account, so crispen and whited.

And he prayed 'side himself that they'd please be delighted.

It was out with the old and right back with the same.

This brand new address bore his very own name.

He peered out on the land and he hoped they'd be happy,

But another event had them all Feeling crappy.

They were all in their homes right in front of their screen

Watching nice guy and nice girl and Russell, the mean.

The show was "Survivor," the Aaron knew well.

But the A's were all livid from that girl Southern Bell.

It was Russell who slithered and gurgled and kwun.

So how was it Natalie who'd sat down and won?

Sure he's jerk, but his game was enough.

The Aaron agreed. That's Pretty Mess Uff!!

There were many more things that had A-Town in shambles.

There were celebrity deaths and even the mambles.

Tuesday was not a Good day for these guys.

It was a day to sleep in and to rest their two eyes.

It was not close to Friday and they all had to work,

But they never liked that 'cause their boss is a jerk.

Plus, the TV was filled with the dumbest of shows,

Like that one show that nobody watches or knows.

Back down in his room as the Aaron sat cold,

Ideas in his mind had begun to unfold.

He could get on the Net and could preach the Good word

Spreading Tuesday and self-esteem often unheard.

He could steal their month-lookers, their wake-me-up boxes.

He could try to unleash a forest of foxes.

They'd like several warm cookies, some perfume, some flowsers,

Or maybe a jig in his tear-away trousers.

He and his siblings could be X.C.O

At a family party - a private rock show.

No - the problem with that, and it's happened both years -

Is the Aaron doesn't stretch and he wakes up in tears.

He'd do one more show, but he still felt unsure

That Trans-Christensen Orchestra would end up the cure.

So what must he do? And what must he say?

He had to keep Tuesday from going away!

He puzzled and puzzed 'til his puzzler was sore,

Then the Aaron thought of something he hadn't before.

No matter the bad, no matter the worst,

The other six days weren't necessarily cursed.

Even in Fantasy Football, the sport,

If he had a bad week, he'd still not come up short.

The "Raiders" did well and so did "Mas Guapo,"

But despite those results he was still on the top-o.

He set up his laptop and typed in some trupplates

To stalk all his friends and their Tues. status updates.

A girl's bathroom had just caught ablaze,

But her house was still standing, most merry of days.

Another, a DJ, was begging donations

For presents to send kids from multiple nations.

One man had resigned and went home to his kids.

(I'll bet my paycheck is STILL smaller than hids.)

And so on this day with so many complaints

(Like the stupid Cowboys who beat my poor Saints),

There was reason for laughter and plenty of smiles.

The next deadly earthquake won't be found for miles.

It may not be Friday, but it's neither a Monday.

And if you read the Good word, it will Feel like a Sunday.

The Aaron took his texter and unlike a downer,

Send out a nice message to every A-Towner.

You need not a ribbon. You need not a tag.

You don't need a package, nor box, nor a bag.

It's not Wednesday that matters, you need not be rude.

The thing that counts most is your own attitude.

Unlike a Christmas, which just comes in December,

You can Feel Good all year long, you need only remember.

Back down in Club Jive, the Aaron heard a sound.

It was loud, it was clear, though he lived underground.

The sound that he heard came from hearts of the A's.

The sound was a song of happiness - praise.

"We'll praise each Tuesday from far, near, and wide!

We'll all sing our song with much Tuesday pride!"

The sound was pleasing to the Aaron's mind,

His hatred of Wednesday now left behind.

Emerging from below the depths of A-Town,

He greeted the A's with nary a frown.

The Aaron was brimming from ear to ear

And the A's had some Shoutouts they wanted to hear.

"To Ashley, the Chapmans! To my uncle Ryan!"

(Then he paused and he waited for them to stop cryin'.)

With presents and wamples, with trinkles and goozles,

They'll all Feel Good if they simply so choozles.

That was all that he said and the end was in sight.

Merry Christmas '09 and to all a good night.

Until next Time,

Move It. Sell It. And Leave the Door Open.

Aaron

(aaronchristensen1986@yahoo.com)