The holidays are upon us; decorations, carols, presents and the tradition that keeps giving, dotty Uncle Fred at Christmas dinner. We all know one.
“Uncle Fred, we’re so glad you could make it.”
UF: “Yeah, you’re lucky I’m here what with the way this country’s going to hell in a hand basket because of that socialist Muslim in the Black House.”
Oh yeah, lucky, lucky us. “Riiight. Well c’mon in and take a load off. Ya want a drink?”
UF: “Can’t hurt. At my age government will be putting me down anyway soon as they get those death panels up and running. Won’t be long before they take over my Medicare.”
“Here’s your Tom Collins, Uncle Fred. You do know Medicare is run by the government already, right?”
UF: “So says you. The government does nothing for me except tax me to death.”
“Uncle Fred, you’re on Social Security and you don’t pay taxes anymore. You went to college on the GI Bill. You came here on Amtrak after leaving the VA hospital where you were admitted because you used your food stamps to buy spoiled meat out of a guy’s trunk after the flood while FEMA was rebuilding your house.
“Anyway, you remember Cousin Britney? That’s her new wife Darlene over there. We’re all excited the state changed the law so they could get hitched. Sorry you missed the wedding.”
UF: “Listen to me. The Constitution says marriage is a sacred bond between a man and a woman. What’s next, marrying dogs?”
“Uncle Fred, you’ve been married three times, all of which ended in divorce because you cheated on your wives. Plus the Constitution doesn’t say a thing about marriage. How’s your drink holding up?”
UF: “When the hell’s dinner, sonny? I don’t want to miss Hannity. Thank God for Fox News or all we’d have is the lame-stream media feeding us more cornpone about amnesty for them impoverished illegals who can’t even speak English good.”
“We’ll be sitting down shortly but I hope you haven’t forgotten that your grandfather, my great grandfather, was an impoverished immigrant wh BY MARTY MOORE o couldn’t speak English when he landed in New York.”
UF: “Let me tell you something. This country is being ruined by all these minority types and illegals and feminists and gays, what-have-you. We need to take America back and put God back in charge where He belongs.
“You’ve got a little spittle there on your chin, Fred. You know that’s pretty much what they used to say about the Italians, Uncle Federico.”
UF: “Yeah, yeah. All I’m saying is I love the Constitution. And if people like me don’t get our way it’s time to break out the guns and secede.”
“Isn’t secession exactly the opposite of loving the Constitution? You know, Uncle Fred, all those people you’re so threatened by only want the same thing we all do, better lives for the kids.
“Hey, that was a great meal, honey. Uncle Fred, please pass the nut cake and Merry Christmas to all.”
Marty Moore is a freelance writer in Port Richey.